The Mourne Mountains Short Story
The day had started out sunny and warm. So, I decided to take myself off on a walk up the Mourne Mountains. The Mournes are well known for their beauty and splendour in Northern Ireland and throughout the world. They are majestic and filled with deep forests, waterfalls, and granite peaks.
The wooded area was damp due to rain the day before. I could smell the wood, the pines, and various scents of flowers as I walked past them. The soil was moist and damp under my feet. Quelch, quelch was the sound of my feet as I walked through the forest. A cacophony of bird song filled the air making the scene magical and full of mystery. I was alone and filled with awe for the beauty of such a wonderful place. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy of the forest making it even more magical.
I walked through the open grassland, saw a little babbling brook and heard its relaxing sound as the water jumped over the little pebbles. I walked for a long time and suddenly realised I was lost. Also, it was starting to get dark and grey clouds were forming in the sky above me. Starting to panic a little I made my way back down the mountain not sure of which direction was the quickest to get down. The wind began to blow stronger and worry was setting in. Would I get down this mountain before dark? Would I be able to find my way back?
The light continued to fade and I began to walk quicker. A brooding mist had come down and it was getting more difficult to see. I walked on as it began to rain. The wind started to howl and suddenly I heard the crackle of lightning as it dazzled my eyes. Then I heard a crash of thunder. By this time my heart was also like thunder, beating loudly and anxious with fear. Nature was at her worst. By now the rain was pelting down.
The lightning continued to crackle followed by the roaring thunder. I was soaked to the skin and very frightened. Then I slipped and fell in the soggy soil. I quickly got to my feet and continued to walk on. At last, there was the sight of car lights from the road below and I knew I was near the foot of the mountain. I made my way down the last part of the mountain and headed for home.
The next day I stood on the Newcastle beach. The sun was out. I was warm and dry. I looked up to the Mourne Mountains and there they were in all their majesty and splendour and nature was once again at peace.
About this poem
This is a fictional short story about the Mourne Mountains which are in County Down in Northern Ireland. They are a beautiful mountain range consisting of 12 peaks with Slieve Donard being the highest. My reason for writing the fictional story was to show nature at its very best and at its very worst for both can be found on the mountains. A beautiful and also a dangerous place.
Written on May 14, 2024
Submitted by Blossoming on May 14, 2024
- 2:20 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | X X X X X X |
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Characters | 2,382 |
Words | 468 |
Stanzas | 6 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
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"The Mourne Mountains Short Story" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/187699/the-mourne-mountains-short-story>.
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