This young one, flame of hair and wild of spirit enjoyed tremendously to scamper up the crags and chase the goats onto the highest precipice. Arms outstretched to the blowing winds she would laugh and twirl around. Perhaps, not the most sensible of pastimes but for Nuala caution was something to be fed to the wild wind. To stand high up on the crag with hair blowing one way and her dress the other was one of life’s joys. Nuala would call out and listen to her voice disappear and in wonderment of where it would land, she chased all the way back down to try to catch it at the bottom.
Mostly the goats tried their best to ignore her, though on better days they humoured her shenanigans as she ran at them and shooed them ever upwards.
On a day much like any other, Nuala ran the goats up to the top of the crag, the goats took to grazing and Nuala to twirling. High up in the sky another was twirling, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say circling. A huge eagle had seen the goats and was carefully choosing lunch! The goats at once recognised the fast approaching shadow and in a panic of hooves and horns sped hastily over rock and tussock to save themselves from the winged devourer. Nuala spinning with eyes shut was blind to the kerfuffle, laughing and giggling as dizziness took her. Except dizziness, this time had a very firm grip and if she was not mistaken was taking her higher and higher! Nuala opened her eyes to see the ground fast disappearing from below her feet, oh the joy! She had never been up that high before and let out a little shriek.
Confused by the sounds emanating from his talons the eagle looked down, imagine his surprise to see not one horned and bleating but a human child wriggling and shrieking. He dropped her right away!
I never did find out if she managed to catch her voice at the bottom but perhaps you could ask for me at the roots of the old Willow tree…