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| langamull |
I've been thinking this week here in this Hebridean paradise about the metaphor of Garden of Eden, and about the Christian allegory of The Fall, and what it might mean for the psychospiritual journey. In fact, I've written a long blog about it. But I'm going to spare you that for the moment; and spare myself the editing, so I can walk back soon from the phone room at the farm into the blue evening, and appreciate my last few hours here before the journey across the island and the Sound, to Iona, tomorrow.
If the wifi here is powerful enough, instead I'll upload another photo or two. Either way, you can imagine another day full of shifting sealight, birds of prey, wheatears and warblers, miniature windflowers, celandines, red deer keeping watch on dog and human below from their upland plateaux, bars of white sand, raised beaches and ruined mediaeval hamlets and graveyards, and intense intense blue...
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| treshnish to traigh calgaraidh |
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| murphy | | | | | |
Looks like you got good weather for your time in Iona. Mind you, even when it's stormy it's good! Lovely pictures. That magic blue that the sea goes, and the green where the white sand shines through the shallow water... It is Heaven, that's for sure.
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