After having moved to The Isle of Harris there became days, encounters, conversations to which I have little recollection of. New faces blurred on mass and unknown places with foreign signage became jumbled as I tried to navigate deep waters. When you move somewhere that holds a change in culture your brain churns through information […]Read More To Grace, Amazing
My legs drapped over the end of the bed as my heels nonchalantly kicked at its wooden frame. Bea and Noah milled around me, though quite independently with no input on my behalf being asked for and although it was surprisingly cold, I was not surprised to see them both half dressed. ‘Clunk, clunk’. If […]Read More A Hebridean Christmas
As my chin sat heavy upon the rounded handle of the outdoor brush a small velvet sheened robin with a ruddy rounded chest hopped upon the lip of Fasgadh. Watching it, I pondered as to whether I had ever uncounted a robin so close and fearing I had not I did what any self respecting […]Read More Young as the morning, old as the sea.
Autumn has arrived in Harris and with it clusters of thick glossy berries swing from trees like over excited Christmas decorations. The wind, like an old expected friend has come knocking and with it I’ve found great comfort. One evening, as the children fell to sleep, clutching a hot water bottle I thrust my feet […]Read More Over the rainbow bridge
The air held warmth but the breeze blew cold, autumn had somehow arrived. With it came heather clad rocks, as if over night the feet of a large giant had squashed and bruised the grass below and brambles, thick with dark seeping fruits hung ready for eating. One afternoon as myself and Bea pottered around […]Read More To all that we possess: A practical guide for mind and heart
On Harris, I live in a world of two halves. One half holding the name, ‘a lot of people’ and the second half ‘hardly anyone’. They don’t mix, but I do struggle immensely to transition from one to another. For when I am in the half of ‘hardly anyone’ I never question who I am. […]Read More To all our callings
‘Do you know why those yellow poles are there? They show you where the edge of the road is when there’s snow. Remember your not in the hills. These are mountains’. Its quite easy to forget that you live upon mountain. ‘What’s it like there?’ ‘Well its like living in the lakes only amplified’ Is […]Read More To all our highest mountains
I’ve never had a lot of money, but say I did, I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea as to what to do with it. So its probably just as well I haven’t. On many occasions I have looked into wishing wells and been astonished by the sheer number of one to two pound coins thrown […]Read More To Grannie Island’s, Grannie Mainland’s and Grannie Annie’s.
Before our move to Harris and before I had even met Chris I travelled down to London to stay with my old friend Tom. I had applied for a Fine art course and I travelled down to explore whether or not I wanted to be there. I did. It was an overflowing treasure trove of […]Read More To treasure and those who find it
People say to me, quite frequently ‘You’ve got your hands full!’ and I think its such an odd phrase? Hand’s full. Don’t you? ‘Don’t do that you’ve already got your hands full’ or ‘Goodness you’re going to have your hands full!’ I understand their thought but their words are slightly off centre. I have no […]Read More Head, hands and heart.