Quiet
hear the waters lap on the shores the ice age formed
the history
the battles that raged
the smugglers rowing illegal whisky along its shores
it's landowners
its castles and stately piles
hear the swallows on the wing
and the "tip tap" of the soft raindrops on the roofs of the cars in the carparkthe midgies are missing thanks to the rain and the mist
both of which swirl around us
the wild water swimmers come and go
back and forth
as hardy as the areas original settlers
tugging their coloured floats behind them
the peaks of the mountains which tumble down to the waters edge to greet them
come and go too
the crowning peak of "Ben Lomond" itself hidden
maybe it's there - maybe it's not
the tourist boats are
plying their trade around the Loch
the many miles of island shores
splendid houses and secret coves
they also come and go in the mist
leaving only their commentaries
skimming across the surface of the still waters
like the swallows
chasing what midgies they can find
to feed their families
...oblivious to it all
