Something in the Water
It was such a rare and delicious golden day this late in October that even the wind sat back in silent amazement. We headed into the West for a light supper in what used to be our local--a combination of nostlagia and celebration of the season. October brings golden light onto the fields turning harvested fields an impossibly bright brass. When I first saw oil colour paintings of the fields I thought the colours were all wrong and hopelessly brash. My eyes needed seasoning.
Late afternoon comes early in October, so the shadows were already lengthening as we headed west, but we had time for a look at Portskerra. With a little-used harbour now and below eye level from the main road, it would be easy to pass by Portskerra without unpacking her little secrets. Her presence was revealed to me as gift from a friend whose friend had shared it with her. When a friend from England came north, I took her to Portskerra--after all, gifts are for sharing.
I followed the path along the coast from a small harbour used by local fishermen to the Portskerra Drownings Memorial. Scotland has many memorials to those lost at sea. This is one of the more poignant ones. I always stop to read the names aloud as if to breathe them one more time into the safety of the harbour.