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Highland Wilderness ©

H Marshall

Where curlews skirt the peaty bog
Brown stagnant pools loud plop.
Cold droplets form a blanket fog,
Above an algal mop.

Spongy moss slow decomposes
In that habitat so harsh.
Acrid smells assail our noses
And there's no Mountain Ash.

Simple flora, sphagnum and heath
Their growth stunted by acid.
Bleak earth, no oxygen beneath;
All dead forms lie fetid.

Poor drainage and water movement
Slowly erodes rock and soil
The cold prevents development
Below a sheen-like oil.

A breeding ground for mosquitoes
In season, pestering all.
Unaffected when the wind blows,
A place which traps rainfall.

Atmosphere suspended with dew,
Emerging from the dank soil.
An eerie mist obscures the view
With covering grey veil.

This remote scene where time persists
Paints a foreboding picture.
Cold, mystical, and damp Scotch mists
Form by Mother Nature.

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