Puddock Quotes

“THE PUDDOCK

A puddock sat by the lochan's brim,
An he thought there was never a puddock like him.
he sat on his hurdies, he waggled his legs,
An cockit his heid as he glowered through the seggs.
The biggsy wee cratur was feelin that prood,
He gapit his mou an he croakit oot lood:
'Gin ye'd a like tae see a richt puddock,' quo he,
'Ye'll never, I'll sweer, get a better nor me.
I've femlies an wives an a weel-plenished hame,
Wi drink for my thrapple an meat for my wame.
The lasses aye thocht me a fine strappin chiel,
An I ken I'm a rale bonny singer as weel.
I'm nae gaun tae blaw, but th' truth I maun tell -
I believe I'm the verra McPuddock himsel.'...

A heron was hungry an needin tae sup,
Sae he nabbit th' puddock an gollupt him up;
Syne runkled his feathers: 'A peer thing,' quo he,
'But - puddocks is nae fat they eesed tae be.”
― John M. Caie, The Puddock

“But oftner the nights were clear, marvellously lit. Darkness was a pale lustrous gloom. Sometimes the north was silver clear, so luminous that through the filigree of leaf and sapling its glow pierced burning, as though the light were a patterned loveliness standing out against the background of the trees. Later the glow dulled and the trees became the pattern against the background of the light. The hushed world took her in. Tranqil, surrendered, she became one with the vast quiet night. A puddock sprawled noiselessly towards her, a bat swooped, tracing gigantic patterns upon the sky, a corncrake scraighed, on and on through the night, monotonous and forgotten as one forgets the monotony of the sea's roar; and when the soft wind was in the south-west, the sound of the river, running among its stony rapids below the ferry, floated up and over her like a tide. She fell asleep to its running and wakened to listen for it; and heard it as one hears the breathing of another.”
― Nan Shepherd, The Quarry Wood