Thanks to some very kind, generous neighbours of ours, we were given the opportunity to visit their lovely little cottage on the Isle of Skye last week. Above all this trip reaffirms one’s faith in the true goodwill that exists in some people. Real kindness. No expectations of return favours. Honest, goodwill and nothing more. It will be the lasting memory for us.
I’ve written this simple ode to sum up just how special this place was to us.
Memories of The Misty Isle
A journey from home to shores afar,
Where signals are lost away to the Stars,
Put down our devices, see waters glisten,
For here we are forced to watch and listen.
Silence prevails, so loud it surrounds
You complete, just a heartbeat felt how it pounds,
In anticipation of a rare glimpse, the mission,
But only if we watch and listen.
Holiday, getaway, escape from life’s hurry,
Of routines mundane or those cause to give worry,
Mountain, loch, beach, enable transition,
Where all you can do is watch and listen.
Sunsetting below a jagged splendour,
Til silhouettes remain in moonlit grandeur,
Novel and needles put down in submission,
For fear of missing. Must watch and listen.
Gentle water lapping barnacled rocks,
Where otters feast and seals tease and mock,
Disappearing quickly, was it an apparition?
No, there for sure. I watched, saw and listened.