Reprise my longing, dear old land.

Scottish

When to Scotland, I came to admire the very beauty of tartan against a grey Scottish sky.

Smell my dried seaweed, the water was calling. Smell my salty breath, the wind chimed in.

I wandered off to see the sheep. Blackface sang a song about obstinacy and dandelion.

Then the land ended and sky became sea.

I hid away from the sun. The leaves scraped like abrasive tongues over my skin.

In the end, everything pointed me to the water. Away, away we go.

 

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24 Gedanken zu „Reprise my longing, dear old land.

  1. Lovely photos and poetic descriptions. Thanks for sharing those. Have a bit of Scottish heritage but it goes back so far there is no clear record of it. Only something about our Robinsons being a sept of the Gunn Clan. Your photos have strong feelings and speak stories of other times.

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