I listen to my sister chatting and close my eyes to the warm sun, I feel comfortable and safe, wrapped in my layers, lying on a camp blanket, the late spring sun is a welcome surprise and we enjoy it for a moment, letting it sink in, taking it’s goodness deep into our skin.
I think about Scotland, about how many people appreciate this country they call their own, we think of ourselves as a patriotic nation but how many of us really take the time to explore what we call ours, to travel to east and west to the islands surrounding us and the high inland peaks.
Of course the warmth doesn’t last long, the wind is still cool and eventually the cold damp ground seeps up through to our bones. We head off in search of a seat indoors; sheltered and warm. We find the perfect compromise for spring time in Gerry’s Ice Cream parlour, it’s warm and cosy, we order ice cream sundae’s to persuade ourselves that summer is on its way and a large pot of tea to heat ourselves up a reminder that winter is only just passed.
Before us the Standing Stone of Stenness sit silently, a couple of days ago we heard stories of sitting at sunrise and strange feelings; of a need to dance and spirits and messages. I felt quietness, the tall stones standing proud. It’s the age of the stone rather than when it was moved to position that fascinates me, beyond comprehension, the formation deep in the ground, high pressure and temperature creating hard material, the various minerals creating texture and colour, when I touch it I feel the cool stone, the cold pulling me, sucking heat out from my hand, connecting me through heat flow to the past.
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