Beinn a' Bhuidhne
Like a lidless eye, the loch stared up into the sky. Fluffy clouds drifted slowly aloft, but the sun shone brightly. The black ribbon forked, one going south, the other west into the far distance. Both were roads into memory. The wind whispered through the rough grass and heather. Little heaps of peats were set away from the roadway as it threaded south. The modern addition of wind turbines fell away as altitude was slowly gained. Little huts started to appear, a little way off the beaten track. Some blown apart by the unrelenting and unforgiving wind. "Let's stop here". The car pulled into a lay-by and its engine was switched off. "This is where we went to cut peats". She looked around. The wind sighed through the heather. "We'd leave a jar of jam buried there, and the next year it would be dug out. Just scrape off the mould and it would be as good as new". An old, rusty kettle lay amongst the ruin of the shieling hut. Lochs lay glistening in the distance, where the river ran eastward towards inhabited lands. "Sometimes, we'd start the car and let it roll down the hill". She smiled. "Sometimes, we'd make it all the way into town". The sun was momentarily obscured by a passing cloud, and a little chill fell. But the light came back quickly. The running of the river was the only other background noise. The car door shut, its engine started and the vehicle moved on towards the top of Beinn a' Bhuidhne.
Labels:
short story
February 2022
I still see you
Every day
In that corner
With the cat by your side
Your voice follows me
And the island remembers you
From your ancestral roots
By the Atlantic shores
The big sky looks out for you
The ocean thunders your name
The hills gaze down
Wondering like me
The ancient stones know
The circle on the ridge
The treacherous one
Out in the moor
The wistful beauty
of Bosta and it's beach
The sun glistens In countless lochs
Like tears in lidless eyes
The spiders still weave webs
In the shelter by the crossroads
We passed by
Roving the island's roads
You took me
Into your world
With pride,
And proud I would join you
Your world remembers you
And knows you are there
You are your world
And forever will be
Labels:
barbara,
loss,
remembrance
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