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Moth + Robin

They are not really encounters. They are more like parallel happenings, like ships sailing past each other. We are both there, here breathing the same oxygen, possibly smelling the same smells but our experiences are so different, so a relationship is unlikely. Nevertheless, I see them and they seem to see me. Take the moth for instance. I saw it in the dark, just at the top of the hill where I turn down behind Alexandra’s Hall. A white flying spec, tiny. And yet, it appeared to be following me, flying alongside. And then there are the robins. There must be several not just one. They are everywhere, and they do feel like they are engaging with me. Hopping along as I walk, or stopping and leaning their heads to one side as if in wonder or bemusement. I sometimes stop my striding, my always rushing to get somewhere or something done, and listen. I listen to the birdsong, or watch the female blackbird that has just bounced out of the undergrowth in front of me.

And I forgot to tell you of the seagull flying high above the Pier and how its whiteness was tinged pink by the perpetually changing roof lights. Oh, and of the orange lorry from Redruth in Cornwall awaiting the arrival of the fishermen at the harbour, lights full on and blazing like a dream.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.