If I Had Wings

If I Had Wings


When walking on Luing, the island where I live in the Inner Hebrides, I imagine myself right up there with the hawks and eagles, soaring on thermals over ice-blue waters and ochre shores..and able to pick out minute details from a great height..if I had wings.


With the wings of a gull I’d have an intimate acquaintance with the rainbow of seaweed and shells coating the shore..the movement of fish in waters churned by vast underwater channels and caverns.


With the wings of a Canada Goose I’d fly from feeding ground to resting place, honking the dangers of visiting shooting ‘parties’ and lack of hiding facilities – necessitating a hasty away-day to the nearby mainland.


The wings of a swan could take me over to neighbouring Seil Island – it’s golden loch-side reed-beds sheltering calm, slate-dark waters.


“If I had wings – proper ones..” said the hen pheasant.. “I’d not have lost my tail to a hawk .. and wouldn’t have to climb this darn hill.”
Luckily, there are very few hills of unreasonable proportion on Luing.


The sky here does not play second fiddle to the sea; the sea takes colour from the sky..and each is a canvas for the island.


If I had wings – like this hawk, I too would chase a plane across the blue horizon. As far as I could go..and back again. Home.

If I Had Wings


About largelyhelen

Designer, photographer, writer.
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