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Fit’s fleein aboot far in October?

Fit’s fleein aboot far in October?

Pink-fitted geese, ye say?

Foo mony?

Forty thoosan?

Awa!

Far fae?

Greenland?

Michty!

 

Fit else is fleein aboot in October?

Dyooks, ye say?

Nae forty thoosan’ an aa?

Mair than a puckle tho?

Fit’s at ene wi the pinty tail?

A pintail?

An at boorach wi the shovel moos?

Shovellers?

Weel, nae muckle imajinins there.

 

Fit’s at fleein aboot oot yonder?

Whooper swans, ye say?

Fae Iceland?

Tae Crimond?

Are they wise?

Ooh, a wee fechty!

“Bide awa fae ma wumman!”

Same the warld ower.

 

Fit’s fleein aboot ahin ere?

Tree sparraws, ye say?

Scarce, are they?

An at wee crater forbye?

A merlin?

Bird o prey?

Mair like mait tae ene, I’d say.

 

So that’s fit’s fleein aboot far in October.

Ye wid hardly credit it –

Aa thon in oor wee neuk

fae oot an aboot,

flockin tae oor dune loch.

Feel?

Nah!

Sound.

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