I worked one summer on the Cork Train on the food trolley. A young fella with me in the kitchen car was really into the skylark (Alauda arvensis, in Irish: “Fuiseog”). He could play skylark’s famous guitar riff on his knock-off Les Paul (you know the one, it goes “chirrup… chirrup, trrrp”). Claimed the skylark did not play a real Gibson either. I will never forget that little detail; I lost touch with that kid later on.More here
About Me
- The Nag
- Niagara on the Lake, Ontario, Canada
- My virtue is that I say what I think, my vice that what I think doesn't amount to much.
Friday, January 25, 2019
Memories of Irish Birdsong
A flash fiction by the author of ‘Beasts at Bedtime’
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