Where the verdant is absent, the sea provides.
(Southern Skye, at the foot of Sgur na Stri, Loch Coruisk.)
Where the verdant is absent, the sea provides.
(Southern Skye, at the foot of Sgur na Stri, Loch Coruisk.)
Sligachan, Isle of Skye
On the last day of a holiday, the most astonishing snow fall for long decades, my labour began here. Not just any labour, but the work of bringing a child into the world. Three ambulances, one air ambulance and a coast guard helicopter, plus a journey to the Outer Isles and over the north of Scotland eventually taking us to Alexandria (Scotland, not Egypt). It began here over a convivial meal with dear friends in the shadow of these great peaks. Skye - a place where things begin.
For photo credit, click here.
‘Storr Nan Bodach’ or ‘The Old Man of Storr’, a jagged pinnacle that is just a part of Skye’s rich geological heritage.
(Photo credit to Frank Heumann, click here for more.)

As an addendum to yesterday’s Skye posts, this is a bit of colour for those already in the grips of Autumn-Winter blues. Enjoy the colour on the Isle of Skye and dream of Spring…
(For photo source click here.)
Skye at night or the night Skye - what a show! Sgurr Na Stri at mightnight. Mountains lit by moonlight. Milky Way on the left, shooting star included. Aurora Borealis on the right. It doesn’t get better than this.
(For photo source click on the link and thanks to Cat for putting up this brilliant photo.)
The fun story of the day must be this one about a bunch of guys “kidnapping” their friend to take to Skye for a stag do and carry a table chairs and full meal, with alcohol, up a mountain, mad!!
Outside the dining room, out of the restaurant and best of all, this is THE VIEW FROM OUTSIDE THE BOX! Good on you guys!
“The next year the (home) ‘sickness’ hit with a vengeance and interestingly, it also corresponded with my whole family being physically ill, one and off.”…”I became a little bit ridiculous, hanging on to every shortbread tin with a west highland terrier or some tartan on it, clung to every Scottish word and tradition and fortunately, tartan trousers would have looked terrible on me or maybe I would have worn them too. In some deep way, I fought being here even though I’d chosen to do so.”
© S. Marian, Aug. 14, 2012
An excerpt from “Words To Sing Me Home,” to be found on “A View From Outside The Box,” url: adialogue. For anyone that’s every been homesick, take some comfort here.