Neil Leadbeater – Viridian

Leadbeater LE P&W February 2025

Download PDF Here

Live Encounters Poetry & Writing February 2025

Viridian, prose and two poem by Neil Leadbeater.


Viridian

Her face was beautiful. It was one of those faces that, once seen, was never forgotten. When the team of divers found her, they brushed their hands over her eyes and cheekbones marvelling at her texture. How had she come to be here, miles from anywhere, deep in the arms of the Atlantic?

The next day, the divers dropped anchor in the same spot and went to search for her again. It was almost as if this beautiful bronze sculpture was drawing them to her. Perhaps she was Salacia, the goddess of saltwater or Amphitrite of the wind and waves? (They had already in their minds raised her status to that of a goddess). When they finally reached her they saw that her mouth was slightly open. They had not noticed this before but now it was very obvious because, to their wonderment, a shoal of mackerel came out of it. They were the most beautiful fish they had ever seen. It was a most extra-ordinary sight. To witness all these tiny fish funnelling out of her lips was strangely compelling and almost beyond their comprehension. It was as if she was birthing them through her mouth. Each one was perfectly formed and seemed to be at ease in their watery element. She nourished them in numbers past all counting.

If she really was Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon, queen of the seas, they should not have been surprised by this phenomenon. She was, after all, the mother of many sea creatures, sea nymph child of the gods. After a few days of mulling things over, the team decided to give her a name. She had become so real to them, and they had become so attached to her, that she needed to be given a form of identity. After careful thought, they named her ‘Viridian’ on account of the colour that the sea had bestowed upon her: a bright shade of spring green that was somewhere between green and teal on the colour wheel or, to the artist’s eye, a kind of tertiary blue-green. The name stood for tranquillity and renewal. It symbolised balance and harmony and it evoked feelings of peace and stability.

*

Musing over her name, one of the divers recalled how he first came across the word ‘viridian’. It had not come to him from a dictionary but from a piece of music. A few years ago he had heard a composition on the radio by the Australian composer Richard Meale. The work was called ‘Viridian’ and, for Meale, it proved to be something of a turning point in his musical thinking. Described as evoking an imagined world of luxuriant greenness with its lush orchestration, it quickly gained favour further afield setting Meale off in a new direction enabling him to delve deeper into his own musical persona.

*

The divers in a sudden moment of colourful thinking wanted to bring her to the surface in a chariot drawn by sea-horses. On a practical level, they saw merit in returning her to her original beauty by removing all the toxic copper salts that were clinging to her body. They wanted to restore her to the life she used to lead but none of them, of course, had any idea about what that life might have been. One of the team, who lived on Bryher, the island of hills, wild rugged and almost untamed, thought it might be good to have her restored and placed in his garden but another of the team set his heart on bringing her to the wonderful Abbey Gardens on Tresco. He could just picture her on the East Rockery below the Abbey itself or in that part of the garden called Mexico where giant borages from Madeira and the Canary Isles flower in many brilliant shades of blue. After giving it some thought, the team of divers finally settled on placing her at the southern end of the garden among the carved figureheads from the many ships that had been wrecked around the rocky coasts of the Isles of Scilly.

It took months of preparation to make the necessary arrangements for her to be lifted safely out of the water. It all had to be done professionally and with a great deal of patience because they did not want to run the risk of having her fall apart. The day they saw her being hoisted into the sunlight was unforgettable. At first, sea water poured off her surface features in torrents but later, while she was still being suspended, everything thinned to a stream of droplets. Once she was on land, the cleaning process began. They had to seek specialist help in finding the right kind of materials to use in order to avoid causing any damage.

As soon as she was on land and placed into position her bronzed textures acquired the most beautiful blue-green patina that shone with a warm glow. The glaze on her features was out of this world. It seemed to alternate continually between Tiffany blue and Persian green, cerulean blue and myrtle green, vivid sky blue and sea green. It was no wonder that potters, sculptors and all kinds of people who were creative with their hands were drawn towards her. She had the capacity to inspire them all.

Every time one of the diving team visited her they would be met with the most amazing spectacle. Butterflies would emerge from her mouth. Not just one or two, but a whole swathe of them. One of the divers described it as a flight or a flutter but the best collective noun of all that they came across that day was a kaleidoscope due to the many changing beautiful colours. The butterflies caused a stir as they slowly rose into the air, eager to visit every flower in the garden. Lepidopterists came from afar to see the phenomenon and to do counts on the different types of butterfly that emerged from her mouth. There were red admirals, common blues, speckled woods, painted ladies, tortoiseshells, commas, small coppers, gatekeepers and meadow browns. The variety was simply amazing. Some thought that they were the souls of the drowned glad to feel the warmth of the sun again after all those years beneath the waves.


Halfpenny Green Aerodrome

Breaking in through a gap in the fence
we were two tearaways
on a runway to adventure.
Testing our wings we cried ‘Chocks away!’
and ran like the wind
arms outstretched
hoping a gust at gale force eight
would sweep us off our feet.
‘Any moment,’ you said,
‘we could be airborne
on a journey to the stars’
but gravity grounded us
in the disused space.
Cool, calm and collected,
we were unflappable
trying and trying and trying again
until sense left us standing
on our own two feet.


Ormes Lane

Coming home from school
on the Bella Viva 40-seater
we always looked forward to
that perilous 1 in 4 gradient
on the tight hairpin bend
which our driver
took with ease.
If he couldn’t turn left
at the junction
but had to wait
on the cusp of the precipice
until it was safe to proceed
we’d hear the hiss
of the air brakes
before the long way down.

We’d watch his hands
on the steering wheel
that rapid swing to the left
how did he know
how far to let it correct itself
as it spun so lightly
like a flock of birds
flying beneath his hands?


© Neil Leadbeater

Neil Leadbeater is an author, essayist, poet and critic living in Edinburgh, Scotland.  His work has been published widely in anthologies and journals both at home and abroad. His latest publications are ‘Falling Rain’ and ‘Cityscapes and Other Poems’ (both published by Cyberwit.net, Allahabad, India, 2023). Other publications include ‘Librettos for the Black Madonna’ (White Adder Press, 2011); ‘The Loveliest Vein of Our Lives’ (Poetry Space, 2014); ‘The Fragility of Moths’ (editura pim, Iași, Romania, 2014); ‘Sleeve Notes’ (editura pim, Iași, Romania, 2016); and an e-book, ‘Grease-banding The Apple Trees’ (Rafaelli Editore, Rimini, Italy, 2015). His work has been translated into French, Dutch, Nepali, Romanian, Spanish and Swedish.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.