Where the Pelicans meet the Cormorants

I have a need to return to where we made you, to the warm rocks where we lay. The place where the sun kissed the salt on my skin, and your father moved me to the rhythm of the sea.
And though you now sleep forever, you snuggle close to my heart, but the sun is now calling and its time to depart.

I arrive back to where you began.
The warm rock remains as a warm rock should be, steadfast and unmoved. The sun still reflects the passage of day within its grooves and the rocks tempting shape remains the invitation it once was in happier times.
I recall on the the day, as we lay upon the stones eroded face and my fingers combed through your fathers hair, that cormorants suddenly flew above our heads, their ebony skin reflecting his colour, his head moving across my body with the poise of their wings.
I can still smell the coastal breeze that blew softly, granting permission from our own Mother Nature, as it lifted and parted my light summer dress, sighing her contentment as our restraint washed away with the sand and the spray.
The sea greeted our coupling. And we began natures dance.

A Pelican landed, appearing from the sun, wide eyed and smiling, guarding our love from the eyes out at sea. I stopped your father from brushing her away as the cormorants ceased flying and looked from afar. They audienced our loving as we separated from our minds and became one moving body, sharing with the horizon the intertwining of our limbs. The waves crashed harder, my nails dug deeper, and the flesh of your father glided above me. The sounds of the ocean became the sounds of my pleasure and the splashing of spray coursed through the nerves that tingled and sung. And as the crests crashed faster, the cormorants bellowed a chorus, the waters receded, and the pelican that watched us, nodded her approval.

It was then that I felt you beginning.

Only you and I knew it to be a pelican painted above your crib. And I often smiled as I rubbed your sleeping, teething cheek to the voices of your new family as they proclaimed it a stork. Your open hands closed to my finger as their laughter stirred you. It was the secret we shared, but for too little time.

But you now sleep forever with your hands open wide and I am called to return you, to where the sun kissed the salt on my skin, and your father moved me to the rhythm of the sea. I prepare myself to let you go, for we are now here.
And the rock remains as a rock should be.

The pelican is waiting for me as the cormorants fly by and I take your egg filled with ashes from the pocket near my heart.
The coastal breeze blows softly as it grants its permission and the pelican watches me ask her approval.
I place you in the grooves on the eroded rock face and cormorants land down and begin to stand guard. The pelican moves forward and gently rolls you in close as she places your egg within her protective beaked pouch.
I have returned you to where we made you, to the warm rocks where we lay. The place where the sun kissed the salt on my skin, and your father moved me to the rhythm of the sea.
And though you now sleep forever, you snuggle close to my heart, but the sun is now calling and its time to depart.

I wave my goodbye and the pelican takes flight,
with you in her pouch,
as she beats out her wings
to the rhythm of the sea that crashes upon my heart.

Where the Pelicans meet the Cormorants

Cathal .

Dublin, Ireland

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 26

Artist's Description

I don’t know about you but I can never tell what will stop me in my tracks, what will appear before me or what will inspire me. I recently came across this drawing by a very talented artist Woolleyworld titled Pelicans preening
and I was compelled to stop and get lost in it.
This little piece came to me immediately.

Apologies to the artist if I’ve ruined his/her picture, but I like the idea of writers and artists being inspired by each other, and here is what came to me as I looked at this drawing.

I think of this story as a small comfort, to a tragedy that many have had, a tribute to nature and the moments we should cherish when we are lucky enough to have them.

Artwork Comments

  • Luke Brannon
  • Cathal .
  • rjpmcmahon
  • Cathal .
  • sandra22
  • Cathal .
  • WoolleyWorld
  • Cathal .
  • HamperRefuser
  • Cathal .
  • Teacup
  • Cathal .
  • Pooh
  • Rikki Woods
  • Cathal .
  • AnniG
  • Cathal .
  • wildwomenlove
  • Cathal .
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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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