On the far side of the dark hills there are a number of windswept trees that shield my cottage from the adjoining lane
I was glad of the privacy afforded to me
Although isolated my cottage is large
It has five rooms and was once owned by a hill-farming family
On the wall above my writing desk there is a painting of an Artic Tern and apart from the Kestrel’s in the fields beyond the trees
This are the only bird I see
I have grown quite friendly with this diving bird and often speak to it when working
The heavenly drift clouds were hiding the sun but its warmth had raised the morning flowers both ordinary and strange
During the first week of November the Kestrels visit my cottage settling on its grey slate roof
The reason that they visit me is to observe the clouds and the colours of the sunsets
The roof of my cottage provides an uninterrupted view of the wide wide sky and the valley below
We never speak as Kestrels can only sing
At times there are up to twenty birds on my roof
Bring me the rag-rag-robin and I will give to you my lords-and-ladies a dancing
Was a popular song
I hear it often
Although the days were much shorter the cloud formations witnessed during the final two months of the year were memorable
It seemed to me that all the spectacular sunsets both orange red and pink were reserved for these late year days
I never worked using an artificial source of light and by doing this I was able to enjoy the many sunsets
The Kestrel’s on the roof would commence their sunset songs and when the moment was right I would walk through the trees towards the old wooden gate which crossed the lane
From this gate I could see the full majesty of the sky
One evening a mouse from St Kilda joined me
These clouds are full of angels you know
How can you tell?
What so you see?
I can see a large grey cloud perhaps bearing snow heading across the valley towards us
Its edge is a snow white and hides the rays of a dying sun
The light you see does not come from the sun but is the glow of many angels
A late Kestrel flew by and I covered the tiny creature with my hand
Do not worry I will come to no harm as I am only visible to you
Why do you say that?
Do you think that all angels have wings and wear silken robes?
No they are all around you
Are you saying that you are an angel?
Yes and I have been so for a great number of years
Why do you visit me?
There is no reason for my visit
Perhaps I wanted to meet the writer who hides in the cottage on the dark hill
I often read your work but if there is a reason for my visit then maybe it is to say to you that your confinement should end
You should travel and record your thoughts sharing them with others
Only return to your cottage when you are tired
The clouds will still be here and the view from this old gate will not change
The Kestrels will still visit the roof of your cottage to witness the passing clouds
A few weeks later I caught a train to a large city many hours away
The mouse had asked if I would write an account of its life
It had belonged to the hill-farming family who had owned the cottage before me
It had lived with them for many years
Then one day in church the mouse was taken gravely ill
During its confinement it produced two pale blue eggs
Which were wrapped in velvet to keep them warm
The mouse lingered on for a another two days and then returned to St Kilda
The eggs never hatched and were buried near to the line of trees that shielded the cottage from the lane
The following year sweet celandine grew and covered the burial spot and has remained there ever since
The train drew into the city with its magnificent cathedral
Above its towers was an enormous cloud that almost touched them
It was totally white with the paths of angels clearly defined against the deep blue day sky
Astonishingly nobody took much notice of the spectacular which I found rather sad
Then a beggar dressed in rags handed me a note
In the clouds that are full of angels
You will find a scattered dust
The bells are always busy
Ignore them if you must