This piece was from a prompt whilst on a writing workshop in Quairading, Western Australia. We went for a walk to Toapin Weir where the rocky hillside was covered in lichen. Later that day, we could use a photo as a prompt and this patch reminded me of Jimmy Hendrix…
Creeping, stretching, covering; the Lichen Being spreads his magic across the land. He climbs and crawls, coating the skin of rock and bark. He sings his branches in all directions, playing with shades of green and white. He mingles with moss, and rocks and rolls with raucous abandon, sealing the slick stones. His chorus calls out the presence of water. Lichen licks across the valley, chasing the next drop. Each swallow unfolds in a magic-eye of frills, faces and fireworks. The Lichen Being is all things and yet unseen by many. A latched on, linked in freak who flows in glacial time and frolics to the rhythm of his own song.
