The rattling bog

Fed up being cooped up in the house and feeling squiffy from the effects of the medication to kill the shingles, I happed up in the dung coloured duffle coat and we all went out today to gather more limbs from the birch trees which the Hydro men had cut.

Now what The Farmer had omitted to tell me was that the limbs were on the other side of the rattling bog, just behind the house.

The rattling bog is a permanent marsh with little pools of oily, stagnant water and in days of yore would have been home to a kelpie. Kelpies were river or marsh horses which lurked malevolently then carried poor unsuspecting travellers into the marsh for all of eternity.

It was just the sort of story we were told when young and gave you The Fear so you would not go near rattling bogs. The whole thing rattles and moves when you put weight on it like it wants to slurp you in.

Creepy place.

We skirted around the edge and wandered up the side of the river where the ground was solid. Right in the middle of that photograph is the spot where an enormous bull wandered and got stuck, a tractor tried to pull the bull out and the driver was lucky to escape as the tractor was pulled in too. They are there for all of eternity.

You really can imagine that a kelpie would live here.

We hauled the limbs back to the house and I felt completely exhausted. Perhaps next week would have been wiser to go back to quite strenuous work as the limbs were large and heavy. Oh well, there is always next week and more limbs.

I forgot how beautiful it was down by the river. It is a favourite spot and the river turns the corner then falls into a deep waterfall. It is quiet just now due a lack of melting snow.

Tonight, we have a sweet scented fire roaring, throwing out a good heat. You can smell the burning birch logs outside.

I wonder if the kelpie out the back can smell them.....