GC *8 6-11-08

From

At Swim – Two Birds p 15

I am a bark for buffeting, said Finn,

I am a hound for thornypaws.

I am a doe for swiftness.

I am a tree for wind-siege.

I am a windmill.

I am a hole in a wall.

On the seat of the bog-cloth drawers to his fork was shuttled the green alchemy of mountain-leeks from Slieve an Iarainn in the middle of Erin; for it was here that he would hunt for part of the year with his people, piercing the hams of a black hog with his spears, birds-nesting, hole drawing, vanishing into the fog of a small gully, sitting on green knolls with Fergus and watching the boys at ball-throw.