Category Archives: Outer Hebrides

Wind

Wind, your freshness in my nostrils, I am young again.

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Between Gales (January 2015)

You wake to deep grey darkness. No spark to lighten your tentative walk to the kitchen trying to avoid the curled up dog. Communication utilities are dead. But then the comfort of candles, of a roaring fire, a coffee with … Continue reading

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Harvest Moon Beach

Harvest Moon Beach (September 2014) I didn’t see the Harvest Moon last night; the sky was clouded, closed. But on today’s afternoon my feet touch virgin sand. My beach has changed. According to the dictate of the moon the sea … Continue reading

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A letter to a dead Scot deeply concerned about tradition

In NIGHT FALLS ON ARDNAMURCHAN (*) Alasdair Maclean says: “For a culture to be worthy of the name, for it to succour natives rather than entertain tourists or entertain those who, in cultural matters, are but tourists in their own … Continue reading

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a colourful harvest on our beach

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Hebridean

So she went for a visit to the Islands, bought a ticket and rattled through great scenery. A friend picked her up at the station. The sky was blue the journey pleasant and by the time they reached Broadford the … Continue reading

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Sunday morning

‘Will you come with me to the beach?’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘I have to make myself ready for church.’ So, I walk alone, only me and my dog and God.   It is a sunny late September Sunday, mild and … Continue reading

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