Author: Tom Ling (Page 3 of 3)

I was brought up in Largo in Fife. Largo Bay sweeps from Leven to Shell Bay. Largo Bay was the play-place of my youth and I return when I can. On new year’s eve 2023 I woke from a strange dream that was clearly the result of listening to Michael Marra’s ‘Heaven’s Hound’ the night before. The photo below is of me walking to Shell Bay with, for some reason, a shell for a monocle. A shelfie, perhaps.

Last night I dreamt of Heaven’s Hound
Shepherding souls to a heavenly shore.

Hoping to walk off this strangeness,
I laced my boots and pulled on a Guernsey.
I set off into the salty air,
Feeling the sand and stones beneath my feet.

At Johnstone’s Mill four horses galloped from behind my shoulder 
Their hooves shook the ground, 
For a moment flooding my guts with blood,
Before high-tailing along the water’s edge,
Kicking sand and spraying shards of water,
Refracting light that had travelled through time
To explode here on my most loved bay.

Then out of nowhere that I could see,
A stranger passed and said: 
‘This is the most perfect day to end the year’.
I smiled and walked with lighter steps
Until I reached Shell Bay.

This marked my turning point
At this turning of the year.
Setting my face towards Largo
I walked closer to the water’s edge
Where the sound of the waves 
Sang a song I had known since
I played on this beach as a child.

Heaven’s Hound did not appear,
But the sea made sense of the coming year.

One of the most noteworthy Native American crow myths is that of the Rainbow Crow. According to this Lenape story, the crow did not always have black feathers or a hoarse cawing voice. Once, the crow was a vibrant bird with feathers in all of the colors of the rainbow. The crow was a beautiful singer and a kind soul. Because the crow was so kind, it risked everything to bring fire down from the heavens to the animals and people who were freezing on earth. In the process, crow inhaled smoke and lost his beautiful voice. The fire was so hot that crow’s feathers turned black as soot. In the end, crow chose selflessness over beauty.

Crow Symbolism & Meaning (+Totem, Spirit & Omens) – World Birds

Sea crows patrol our shores,
Specialists in the tidelines.
Shellfish are dropped from a perfect height
To break their shells but not their salty bodies.
Crows feast by day on sticky flesh
With dismal industry.

But, perhaps, at night crows return
To make from broken shells
Mosaics of an ancient world;
When their feathers were saturated with colour
And their song erupted with primal force,
Erotic and terrifying.