Taking note 

It could be the screeching sound 

of the classic Scot rail train gliding against 

the rusty train tracks like a graceful swan  

floating with the water,  

as the train coming to its final stop. 

It could be the voices of people screaming 

at Wintertainment,  

as I stuff my face with tasty sugar doughnuts,  

as if I was trying to get myself a world record. 

It does not have to be Island of Arran 

covering and dominating 

Troon’s distance view. 

It does not have to be the grey rabbits 

Jumping up and down like an active Australian Kangaroo, 

 and quickly travelling to its next vegetable patch 

at Fullarton woods. 

Be curious as a child at Christmas time 

predicting what are you going to get 

like a mad scientist staying up all night 

with coffee, wondering and predicting the outcome of this project. 

 Stop! And just pay attention 

have you ever seen a fox toe nails?