A Flower of Scotland, R.I.P. Margo MacDonald

Across my life are memories of Margo MacDonald. As a very young child with my family, grouped around to watch our black and white TV, I remember the excitement when this amazing woman won her seat in the most strongly contested area of Govan. On the other side of Scotland, Govan was well away from our comfortable house in the Edinburgh suburbs. Yet, from a family who had worked in fishing and mining - we could well relate to the changes happening in Govan ship building. Back then was a time where it did seem that 'IF ONLY' Scotland's people would come together then they could work to change their world for the better. Yes, this was the time before the devastation that Thatcher's years of rule would subject Scotland to. And back then, my family had a very strong interest in politics. However, we did NOT follow a political party blindly, (because family before us had followed the same party). No! Debate was very strong in our household. Indeed,  how often I heard the remark that it didn't matter if all opinions were in agreement so much as it mattered that people actually had an opinion. It was important that people cared, cared enough to be aware of the facts so that they could try their best to do what they could to make a difference. Opinions needed to be formed through decisions made in light of the available evidence. Being widely read was a fundamental starting point and in a disagreement - it was no good to just say "that's rubbish" you had to explain why you thought another's position was wrong and solutions to problems needed to be put forward. Perhaps then, it was no wonder that I got in to student politics. Wanting to hear 'all sides' -  I went to meetings with different political parties and listened to the arguments, for and against. And it was in that period of learning that I first heard Margo MacDonald speak in person, Margo and the equally brilliant speaker, her husband Jim Sillars.

Yesterday, talking of his wife's passing, Jim Sillar's said "the brightest light in the Scottish political firmament has gone out" and indeed, it feels like this today. As shock of grief subdues in to that weary feeling of loss, it seems so personally cruel that Margo has gone just a few short months before Scotland holds its Referendum. I feel that my country could so benefit now from having her voice to speak out in debate as she has done over so many years. But note in my writing here, I am not coming down on one side or the other. I am simply expressing my thoughts that Margo has indeed been such a powerful and enduring light in Scottish politics that we greatly miss her contribution now.

Such an inspirational speaker, I heard Margo (and Jim) talk in various political and business situations. Both so powerfully articulate. But no, I did not agree with Margo on every matter. Yet, I was always interested to hear her position for I had the upmost respect for her. A person I heard on the radio, saw on TV, read in the newspapers - so many, many years passed with no thought that I might ever meet her in person but one day our paths did cross. A meeting with her which would have a lasting influence - and on a personal note I can say - Margo you are sorely missed...

One very ordinary morning I was walking to work when I saw someone struggling with a load of bags as they tried to get out of a taxi. The driver had got out on to the pavement to offer his assistance but this woman was proudly waving him away that she could manage (but there were a lot of files in bags and she seemed to be having some difficulties with her mobility). Passing by so near, I stepped forward and gave my biggest smile. In a disarming voice I commented along the lines of "Ach, another woman like my mum! One who can manage just fine - but maybe you'd take the arm of a stranger?". My friendly greeting made her look up and she laughed (I think it was a laugh at herself as much as what I had said). But then I did a double take and it was me laughing as I exclaimed "Wow! It's Margo MacDonald."

I recall she said something about me having the advantage over her because she didn't know who I was and I'd just smiled. "Ah, I'm someone of no importance" (offering again my arm to lean on she'd stepped on to the pavement). But "No" she insisted "EVERYONE is of importance to me." I had shook my head again smiling, I didn't think it was worth trying to recall my name but I certainly had great respect for what she was doing. And suddenly, right there in the street I was talking about her campaign. Her debate on Assisted Suicide so that those with terminal illness could have the right to die with dignity.

I went on to say that, having seen terminal illness first hand (as a carer) - what she was doing was of great personal importance to me. I talked about how strongly I felt that the law needed to be changed to be clear on this matter. I passionately believed, from all I had seen, that people should have the right, A FUNDAMENTAL FREEDOM TO DIE IN THE MANNER THAT THEY CHOOSE TO AND SO RETAIN THEIR DIGNITY RIGHT UP TO THE END OF THEIR LIFE. I had been deeply touched by Margo's situation and by what she was doing! Yes, I explained it had upset me to learn she was battling Parkinsons, I had a heartfelt wish that she could be in good health for many years to come. However, I saw something to be taken from all this and, for me, it seemed to be the same lesson I had observed when my mum had battled cancer. After, I had looked back on that time I realised, in that period between diagnosis and death - my mum had been given and taken her opportunity to say a very loving and powerful, long and lasting goodbye. My mum had chosen to avoid drugs which could have confused her (although they would have dulled the pain) because she had seen her remaining time as so precious, such an important opportunity to take that she had wanted to do all that she could to get things 'tidied up and sorted out before she left'. I had commented to Margo that, when I had reflected on the news of her battle with Parkinsons - yes, it was so very sad. Yet, I could flip round that terrible situation to make good come from it through a change in the law and a legacy which could benefit all who followed. Already I knew Margo was taking this opportunity, taking the time she had left to facilitate debate and realise change.  So widely known in Scotland and 'loved by many' - wasn't Margo just the right person, at the right time and in the right place to bring the end of life debate right out there in to public view? Suddenly aware that, through the surprise of our impromptu meeting - I might not be expressing myself as well as I could, I knew that everything I wanted to say really all boiled down in to two words. I just wanted to say THANK YOU!  I so greatly appreciated her courage, her bravery in tackling the debate and her staying power in not turning away from all this for an easier route.

There on the pavement, on what had been a very ordinary day, suddenly this extraordinary woman was reaching out and warmly hugging me. And in that moment there was a bond forged through the pain and inevitable pathway of terminal illness. Standing back to give me a big smile she had asked would I come in and talk over coffee. But then, realising the time I had to make my apologies to go. I had explained if I didn't leave right there and then that I would be late for work. Margo had asked where I worked and I'd named the organisation before going on my way. Nevertheless, some hours later, it was still a surprise when I was contacted at work. Margo wanted to know "when would be a suitable time for me to pop in to the parliament for a blether" - she wanted to talk some more...

I met Margo a few times after that first meeting and then the last time we met it was at a work event. I had no advance knowledge before our last meeting that I was going to see her (we had both been invited to the same function). But as ever when I arrived, there was Margo - robustly leading a debate. With a huddle of interested folk around her, she was like a Queen Bee holding court, as ever, what she was saying was being listened to with rapt attention. That day as on others I saw Margo doing great work and at this particular function she was promoting the importance of sport and exercise in building up positive habits for a healthy lifestyle and she was strongly making the case that there was a need for society to work towards improved health for all (she could make an economic case for this - that preventative treatment was better than cure but she also of the opinion - it was just the right thing to do!). Margo looked great, smiling away, chatting to everyone, arguing her case for more money to be put in to sport so that there was access to sport for all, no matter what their income. Everything appeared good with Margo yet I noticed a subtle gesture as her hand moved involuntarily to place pressure on her hip. There was no fuss, certainly no complaint from her but it was obvious to me that she was experiencing a great deal of pain. Hers was the sort of discreet gesture that I had seen my mother do the same when battling cancer. Always a smile to be shared, a friendly supportive word to be given - yet the challenges of ailing health were causing difficulty. Quietly and very discreetly, I spoke to Margo (and by this time she knew a lot about me and what I had experienced). Margo listened to my delicately put concern that she was maybe a bit tired could take a break. She gave me an intense look for a moment and then her face lit up with the biggest SMILE. A twinkle in her eye, Margo gave me a huge and knowing wink "it's a long game and I'm not done yet".   With that, Margo moved on again, taking the opportunity to get her photo taken so she might raise the profile of the campaign to benefit others. The photos taken in these next few minutes, they followed on with this last picture of us both below. A snap which turned out to be the last photo I have of one of the most remarkable women I have ever met.

Party politics colours debate - and latterly in her lengthy career, Margo stood as an independent. She stood for what she believed in and what she believed was that she could give a voice to the poor. Margo spoke up for the ones often forgotten by society, the people most in need of someone in a public position to campaign and work away on their behalf. Margo cared enough to try her best to level out the discrepancies that exist in society between the haves and have nots. Margo was a champion of the common people and in the public eye, she seemed (to me) to always be just the same totally down to earth Margo. In public or tirelessly behind the scenes, Margo worked so hard to make a difference. Perhaps, 'IF' anything was slightly different outwith the public eye it would only be that her private sense of FUN, her infectious sense of mischief  and her wickedly good humour was slightly (only slightly) toned down in public. For, even in public, how many a debate benefited from her sharp wit, brilliant word play and disarmingly quick one liners.

An independent, Margo was like a one woman army! Whatever campaign she backed it went on to benefit greatly from her support for Margo so warmly engaged with the public and shaped opinion. In Scottish life, Margo was a tremendously influential character, in and outside of the parliament. Surely, who in my country is not aware of the charismatic politician "Margo" who has worked so hard over so many years for Scotland and our people. For me, Margo's passing marks the end of an era - although she, no doubt, would be the first to say that "the game's not done yet". Life in Scotland goes on, yes of course. But Margo's legacy remains with us all and I like so many will miss her greatly. At national gatherings we so often sing "Flower of Scotland" and the words strike a chord with me in the line "oh Flower of Scotland, when will we see, your likes again?" The light that shone through Margo has gone out but her legacy lives on.

 MARGO WAS A STATESWOMAN FOR SCOTLAND, a political leader who worked tirelessly with everyone and anyone to transcend party politics and act as a promoter of good for all.

When I  think back on Margo I see a woman who you could call a 'Flower of Scotland' in that she was strong and proud and stood up ready to fight for what she believed in. She was a beautiful lady, inside and out with the greatest compassion for others. Thank you Margo for what I saw you do for the people of Scotland. Such a warm person, you retained a great sense of FUN and personal strength, able to share a ready smile with others, even in declining health. You were and always will remain to be such a great inspiration to so very many. 

R.I.P. Margo MacDonald  (19.04.43 - 4.04.14)
My thoughts go out to Margo's family and friends.

Click to see: STV TRIBUTE TO MARGO & HER LEGACY

and: STV LOOK BACK AT MARGO'S LIFE"

FLY SCOTLAND'S SALTIRE: NO OLYMPIC BAN

The Saltire flag - as with any country's national flag, the Saltire is one of Scotland's most iconic of symbols. The home of the flag originates at Athelstaneford in East Lothian where legend has it that the sign of the flag first appeared as white clouds on a blue sky before a winning battle. And, what Scot is not inspired by the Saltire proudly flying.

Yet today, thankfully, the flag is not seen in fights to the death but displayed in celebration around many cultural and sporting places in Scotland. And surely, there are none so dear and iconic as our national football stadium at Hampden. However, recently, connected to the Queen's Jubilee celebrations and the 2012 Olympics - Scotland has been awash, not with Saltires but with union jacks (much to do with marketing initatives used by national stores keen that 'we' join in Jubilee parties and BUY BRITISH). Nevertheless, where intense union jack 'activity' can be troublesome on the eye of a nationalist supporter - it is quite something else to stomach an unacceptable announcement that the Saltire flag is to be banned from flying at Hampden during the 2012 Olympics, the Olympics which Scotland is also involved in hosting.

Despite all the PR spin that Scotland was to play a big part in the Olympics, although happy to take Scottish money supporting the Games, the fact that we might want to fly our flag over our national stadium - no that does not appear to be ok. Such an absurd ruling, when I heard this myself I at first thought that I must be mistaken. But no, there are numerous news stories confirming what is surely a step too far for any Scot to accept without protest against this ban. For more details see: BBC NEWS STORY

Online, protest action has now begun to raise the profile of this insensitive ruling by the Olympics governing body. To get more details and to support that campaign please visit this page and help to spread the word against this unacceptable Olympic ruling through your own social media sites. Facebook protest group.

In 2012, in the quiet village of Athelstaneford (the home of the Saltire flag) across the fields where battle raged, now all is quiet with bird song and the breeze, the only sounds to be heard. From Athelstaneford, out across Scotland and beyond - now there appears to be a growing resurgence in Scottish people finding their voice. It seems to me in 2012, this is not the time to stay silent about a Saltire ban but to make some noise and speak out!  Speak out and lets see the Saltire flying in Hampden and in other places across this country. No country should be told by others where they can and can not fly their flag at home - let's fly the Saltire in Scotland and especially at Hampden!

PROTECT OUR SEAS

Gulls and the creatures of the sea - what would they tell us if they could talk?

I took this photo as the position of the two birds caught my eye - plenty room I thought for an amusing caption to be added. They looked like two friends discussing life. And then I imagined the one on the right saying "I'm telling you - I think we're being watched" because just behind the birds a seal had raised its head. I was delighted to get this photo as I have seen the seals before (so close to Edinburgh) but often folks find it hard to believe that such nature could be a stone's throw from Scotland's capital city. But indeed, our seas are full of things we can't readily see and (just because we can not see these things) we should not forget how incredibily, how vitally important it is for us to protect our marine environment.

A Seal at Port Seton Harbour
Shona McMillan ©

Looking at the seal's face [click photo to enlarge] - there was such a gentle questioning look on its face, almost as if a sad question was playing on its mind. I could have imagined it asking someone on the shore "please, tell me, what are you doing to my home?" Yet, beneath the waters... without seeing the seal - how easy to forget it could even be there. And too often, we humans can evaluate the world in terms of what it can do for us - not the other way around...

The last fishing boat from Fisherrow, arriving in to Port Seton
Shona McMillan ©

Tonight, I was at the harbour to watch the boats come in. Indeed, around sixty years ago my parents went on their first date here, taking a car trip to Port Seton harbour - to watch the boats come in at sunset. From a long line of Fisherrow fisher folk, my mum loved to watch the boats, when they would put out to sea but especially, she loved to watch them when they came safely back home. My granda' and great-grandfather (fishermen and then, each in their tim becoming Harbour Masters of Fisherrow) - how many times they fished in the Firth of Forth. But, as a child, I recall my granda's changing position and his great concern as he would say "If people are not careful, one day they will fish the seas dry". My granda' was a great believer in sustainable fishing (tho' in these days there wasn't that term - he just saw it as important to limit a catch so that the fish stocks could replenish themselves". Now today, (unlike the small boats seen in East Lothian harbous) huge boats have seriously impacted on the world's fishing stocks. YET, it is very important to point out that the need for marine conservation is NOT all about the issue of fishing. Plastic bags that end up in the sea, pollution from our towns and cities - people need to realise that marine conservation is an issue for everyone to consider and address.

A large flock of birds diving down to settle on the sea
Shona McMillan ©

Myself, I am in a variety of different environmental organisations and often use my blog and Facebook page to post comments eg: protecting butterfly habitat, feeding birds when their natural food supply is scarce, talking about our problems with litter etc. Yet, whatever each of us chooses to do (or not to) - I am sure that we all agree that each of us could always do more. And, getting involved with  environmental charities as a volunteer can also be a great way of meeting new people who share similar interests to ourselves... It seems to me that getting involved as a volunteer is something that benefirts us all. Watching the birds diving to the sea tonight and overhead - seeing HUGE numbers of geese passing over enroute to Aberlady Nature Reserve, I thought how the sound of their calls was just their way of communicating, coming together in a large group for safety, to find food and shelter. And when humans work together, what great things we too can achieve...

Click to enlarge photo and see the geese in flight
Shona McMillan ©

Geese fly around the world to Winter in Scotland and many fish migrate great distances too. From where these journies begin to where they end - people are all over the world and my blog (I know) has been building up an international following. So I ask you, wherever you are when you read my words and enjoy my photos - give some thought to the natural environment around you in your part of the world. If you want to do more to get involved, I can guarantee you that there will be many environmental charities that will gladly receive your time and any financial donations you wish to make. Id be delighted to try and motivated everyone to get outdoors more, get involved and see what you can do to help out more. And again, what I would highlight as a closing thought to take away from my blog is - just because we can not so easily see what is happening in our seas in respect of the marine environment - it doesn't mean that our seas do not need urgently our help. Please, let's all try to do more in whatever way that we can to - "Protect Our Seas"

Wading birds feeding on the East Lothian shoreline
Shona McMillan ©

TRY, TRY AND TRY AGAIN

The more I have looked at sunsets, the more I have learnt to 'read them.' Each is unique in it's own way but still, something beautiful can come from even the most cloudy evening. As clouds drift across the sun, it might appear that the best of the day has gone but knowledge, patience and perseverence are worthy attributes to hold...

If at first you don't succeed, try, try and try again.

Some spectacular sunsets I have missed because I wasn't in the right place at the right time. But now in my life, when I see and am able to photograph so many beautiful sunsets - does that imply that my luck has changed? My mum used to say "what's for you won't go past you" but, as with all these sayings there's a lot more to understand. To create one's 'own luck' needs a combination of many things and not the least of these is effort, the motivation to keep trying. That thought came to me today, as I looked back through my photos from last night (what hard work goes in to creating your own good luck).

A PHOTO ESSAY: Changing light, fishing and 'goodluck'

I like to catch the light as clouds turn pink - we need some 'clouds across the sun' to show up the colourful parts of the sky at its best. When a day clouds over, if the sun sinks below the cloud line, it shines back up and the clouds turn pink. Seeing the banks of cloud build up yesterday, I knew if I waited then 'luck might be on my side'. Finding an area of the shore that would give me a good composition I prepared to wait (and wait and wait and wait). I must have been there for over an hour but I enjoyed watching the birds flying around. I've always wanted to photograph a tern diving for fish but they're so fast. All I could do was line up the shot and try to photograph the moment I saw them turn and dive. Did I get the shot? No I didn't. I was disappointed as I thought I might have got it 'just above' the water  (but all I caught was the before, the splash and then after). It's too difficult I thought... But what if the tern missed a fish and decided, no, it's too difficult? The tern will repeat, repeat and keep repeating until it is 'lucky'. And somehow, then the three photos I took seemed to tell a bigger story - a story about life and that "what's for you won't go past you" - as long as you try, try and try again. Goodluck rarely visits by chance (a tern knows that).



The small shape of the tern, on the right against the cloud,
beginning it's dive for a fish (click to enlarge photo)
Shona McMillan © All Rights Reserved



SPLASH! The tern enters the water
- but I missed the point I was trying to capture
Shona McMillan © All Rights Reserved

 

The tern emerges successful with a fish
- and I will try to capture the photograph I seek another time
Shona McMillan © All Rights Reserved

After my wait on the shore, I hadn't managed to capture the tern (just inches above the water) but, I did learn from my experience. On the first look at my photos I thought "ah, it's too hard" but from a second look I see I am nearly there and with all things we want in life, when the knock backs come we just have to dust ourselves off, get back up and try again. So, did I get the "pink sunset" that I had gone their to capture? Yes, "I was lucky" but then again, I've taken more photos of sunsets than terns. It's all the sunsets I missed which have pushed me on to keep trying to improve. NO FILTERS, NO PHOTOSHOP, NO TRICKS, every single photo in my Blog has been captured by me through the colours of natural light, trial and error.

A pale pink sunset over the Firth of Forth
Shona McMillan © All Rights Reserved

PEOPLE OF THE LAND

Hugh McMillan - fetching the milk at the farm

When growing up, the past (even the recent past of your family) can seem something that's very far removed from the life you are living. But, the older you get - the more you realise that you and your generation are not 'unique' in the personal relationships that are built.

Life is like the land and the four seasons which shape our year, here in Scotland: Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. Like a life itself - the seasons reflect to us the chapters of our life. And if we look, we can see that old family photos can reveal so much to us about our here and now and the legacy that we have inherited from the generations who have lived before. Yet, "to look" is not always so easy because - to do so objectively - we must consider our changing world. And if we want to capture aspects of life for the future - we need to record these while we still can.



Dogs, horses, cows - my dad was always so relaxed around animals
and loved to take our family out in to the countryside
sharing with us his appreciation of nature



The first photo of my dad above used to sit near the piano in my family home. The picture showed my dad as a boy, an ordinary photo then of him walking with his dog, carrying back milk he had collected at the farm. As a young person, "I knew everything" about that photo that had been taken in Garvald. Yes, all the details of "my dad getting the milk with his dog at the farm" but no specific details in answer to the more searching questions I have today as an adult...

My Dad told me how very, very happy his childhood had been as a young boy. Working outdoors with his dad growing vegetables, his dear dog Sweep helping him to herd the cows to the milking at the dairy near to their home by Arthur Seat. 

How much as a boy my dad enjoyed living in this Edinburgh which was (back then) so very different from what it is today. Sheep grazed at Arthur Seat (back then called the King's Park) and from the McMillan home they had a clear view of the Fife coast and in Edinburgh, the fields sloping down to the sea at Seafield and Portobello.

By the time I grew up, houses had spread out in to the fields but at least a golf course (and the fertile volcanic slopes of Arthur Seat) still ensured a large area of green vegitation. The golf course, just above the beach,  "the sands at 'Porty' where my dad enjoyed family days out. Taken by his mum, the portrait above showing my dad in the middle, his father on the left and dad's sister Freda on the right (and of course Sweep the dog which went everywhere with them). Happy family day trips to the beach and then, as an older boy, dad also there with his friends to catch the horses exercised on the sands by troops from Piershill Barracks. (See Mike Kelly copyright notice).

17th Lancers exercising their horses at Portobello beach

After the exercises were finished, the horses would be left to relax on the sands and then, when ready to go - the young boys would help to catch the horses by their reins and for this the troops would give them pennies to spend on some sweets. Life was good! And also, as my dad's dad, was a well known and popular tram driver, my dad would go to see him at work and hitch free rides around the town.

Days seemed full of sunshine and in the evening's dad's mum would often sing and play the piano. Described as a gentle creature, Mary Hardie had actually grown up in the next street to Fred McMillan. They had met young, fallen in love and married but sadly, the life enjoyed took a severe change of direction when my dad was just ten.

Out of the blue my dad's father died of an anurism. One day he went out to work and then he was 'gone'. The shock and financial burden on his young wife was tremendous. Wanting to help, and now "feeling he had to be the man of the house" my father thought he must do something and so an approach to the RAF was made. At just 11 years old, my dad was accepted in to the service but immediately he was posted down south. My dad's experience was not a happy one. As a family, we heard of his childhood and then his life after meeting mum. And, what is not spoken about but left to go undiscussed - these memories can eventually fade away and maybe be lost forever.

It seemed to me that from the moment my mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer my dad began to 'drift' away. 65 days from that diagnosis to her being gone and, after more than 50 years of marriage, my dad was very lost. Increasingly he would ask me questions about the past. The project I started for mum "People of the Sea" - this was a great help because it would bring back memories but not of his life before mum. Painstakingly I searched for photos, read pencil scribbles on the back of them (thanks to Mary McMillan for writing things down!) and then on Father's Day I surprised him with the launch of his very own exhibition for ONE! His reaction was so dramatic, I was taken aback. "You've given me my life back! All my life, the memories before I met your mum that were slipping away, I remember it all, a flood of memories pouring in."

A window opened in my dad's mind as for more than two hours he spoke without stopping about everything. Details I knew that even mum had never heard - the eighty plus years of the jigsaw puzzle of his life coming together. His loving mum, so gentle, young and happy until he was ten. But sadly, how much the years had aged her when he travelled back up from England to see her again in Edinburgh for that short hello and very distressing long goodbye. How much this photo must have been treasured until - too painful to look at, it was safely put away and then the years passed it by (photos without their story).

The personal cost of economic hardship and the cruel realities of war.  Away for a couple of more years, my dad abroad then told his mum was critically ill and given compassionate leave. But rushing to see her, arriving at the hospital  "they were leaving her room" - his mum had passed away in that last ten minutes he'd been tried to reach her...

Hearing my dad's full story was pretty shocking - and the great irony was that I was preparing to launch "People of the Sea" (inspired by my mum and only now I was really learning about my dad). Yet suddenly, I understood SO MANY things that explained other parts of my own life. Without any family left around him, when my dad had married my mum from the fishing community, yes, I could see why his concentration had moved to talk only of her family and not want to discuss the extent of the personal loss he had known. Losses which had ultimately distanced him from the opportunities for him to discover details about his ancestors and "People of the Land".

L-R: Aunty Chrissie's friend, Aunt Chris Thorburn, Hugh and Jean McMillan,
Christine Telfer (cousin), Crissie and Billy Thorburn 

As a young dating couple, yes I knew my Mum and Dad went on their first ever holiday together to Garvald - but exactly why that had been a special place in dad's childhood I didn't know and don't today. Do I have family there? Who knows... Entering his 90th year, my dad 'technically' lives on but all stories once shared have faded away as the cruel clouds of vascular dementia have rolled in. Too late for new questions, only my own patchwork of gathered information remains to tell me that my dad's folk were once "People of the Land". Recent generations settled in Edinburgh, Musselburgh (East Lothian) and on the far side of the Firth of Forth, the McMillan's worked on farms in Fife, near Kinross and over to the west, perhaps in Stirlingshire. 

If the hills could talk, what stories would I learn but recently (looking at the colours in this photo), a memory came back to me. Sitting in my dad's car some years ago he was outside and had opened the door "Jean, where's my tin?" Mum, reached in to the glove compartment and passed him a travel sweets tin. I didn't pay much attention until I saw mum wink and affectionately say "Aye, Johnny Apple Seed".

When the door closed I asked her what she'd meant. She laughed at their secret "Have you never seen yer faither go one of his wee walks when he stops the car? - He gathers up seed pods from the brightest flowers and then pops them into his pocket. After drying them out at home he collects up all the seeds and they go in to the tin he's gone off with. He'll take a walk, disturb the soil and scatter the seeds in other places so he spreads the flowers around the land" "Really?" I said, absolutely amazed - "Oh yes, he's been doing his bit for nature for years". Quite bemused by this I thought it over and then asked "And so he goes back to see the flowers in bloom?" "Och no" said mum, in a knowing way "that's not the point, he's just trying to leave the world a better place than it was when he came in to it."

The Road Home?
In the distance, the farmland from where the McMillan's came from.

Just last week I went back to the area where 'I believe' some of my dad's people once worked the land. I looked at the colours of the fields and the brightly shining crop of yellow Rapeseed in the distance which more or less marks that spot. I thought of the flowers which plant themselves, the seeds that are scattered by the wind. But then I smiled as I also recalled the sunshine yellow and  orange poppies which mysteriously arrived in to my own garden (quietly dropped there along the border of my path by my dad). Such a small effort to spread some colour in to another person's life and yet, each year when I see yellow and orange poppies flower it makes me smile.

Likewise, it was both the McMillan and Thorburn  interest in photography which has given me photos I can appreciate and share - like this one taken by my dad of myself, then just a baby in my mum's arms. Looking back, it was on mum's 80th birthday (May 2006) that she asked that her present be a celebration of the People of the Sea. That promise was given by me in laughter without any vision of what would be achieved: exhibitions visited by 12,000 visitors, 2010 Compendium Album of the Year, Creative Project of the Decade 2000-2010 and in 2011, Culture Sparks social media award for Marketing Impact. And now this weekend, my Celtic Reflections blog has had it's 10,000th visitor... So much has come out of the last five years of this work but now, for me personally, a time to begin a new chapter in my life as I take up an exciting new longterm project (quite by chance: my new job beginning on my dad's birthday and from an office overlooking the farmland that my dad's folks came from).

Wishing a Happy Birthday in 2011 to my Dad, Hugh McMillan
"People of the Land is inspired by you"

Looking on the personal work I have been doing (before this new job) I realised that increasingly, I've seen myself taking photographs of those who work on the land. Indeed in 2010, I took the opportunity to specifically go and photograph various friends who were working the land in the Highlands (a second home where I have holidayed all my life). Very keen to take these photos, thinking at the time that the people's skills (such as Peat cutting) the 'know how' to do this was being passed on to less and less folk with each new generation.

In 2010 - 2011, I've been photographing people working the land in the Lothians and Scottish Borders. However, when over in Fife I had an experience last week which signalled to me it was time to start doing something with all these photos. Wanting to know more about my dad's past, I asked a farm labourer who I might speak. Away in the distance of the land behind me, he pointed to a farm saying "ah, you really need to go and speak to the old guy that lives on the hill up there". As I followed the directions and the farm grew nearer - I wondered what to say but we'll never know. Getting out my car I shouted to someone, "which house does the old guy stay in" and the person called back "oh I'm sorry, he has passed away"...

After that conversation, I sat by the field of Rapeseed that I had first seen from the distance. Watching the sun set over the crop, I felt philisophical about what had happened and decided. Yes, it may well be that I discover absolutely nothing more about my own roots but "no matter to that". I think, just as my dad planted seeds to flower for others to enjoy. Maybe then, my photos will plant positive seeds of thought with those who see them. My photos and stories, maybe nudging some faded memory back in to flower or even, just passing on a smile.  Whatever, I am never short of reasons to get out with my camera and enjoy a walk in Scotland's beautiful scenery. I love talking to folks I meet on these walks and also, now that I must surely know nearly every inch of the Edinburgh to Eyemouth coastline - well, I can now look forward to discovering so much more about the People of the Land on BOTH sides of the Firth of Forth, as this new chapter in my life will allow me to.  (Anyway, more about my new job in a future blog - as for now, I go to post photos to my Facebook page of this evening's very beautiful sunset - check out http://www.facebook.com/shonamcmillan.celticreflections.com in my May out and about album. The sunset by the Forth tonight, so 'perfect' this evening, it seemed almost to be a Celtic Reflection of the lovely day that I have enjoyed outdoors).

9.05.11: Me enjoying this evening's sunset by the Firth of Forth

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!

- PEOPLE OF THE LAND (and Sea)

A New Chapter Begins

NOLLAIG SHONA 2010

Christmas greetings to all my friends, wishing everyone of you a very, very Happy Christmas and year ahead in 2011.

Nollaig Shona is actually an Irish Gaelic greeting 'Nollaig' meaning Chrismas and 'Shona' meaning Happy. It was friends from Dublin who first told me this, all of 21 years ago when I went to Ireland for the first time. That Christmas they took me to see the Christmas Lights and oh what laughter at 'my name' being up there. And, remember how milk used to be delivered to folks doors in glass bottles with silver foil tops? My pals sent me the festive ones adorned with 'Nollaig Shona'. The little things people do, gestures of friendship, much more important than monetary gifts - how much longer these memories last.

In this current cold spell, I've very much enjoyed taking photos to share with my friends - tho' sometimes, the weather has caught me out. Double coats, trousers and jumpers - I haven't been cold but have laughed at my 'Nanuk of the North' image. -20 Temperatures, snowed in for days in the middle of a city and today, the River Esk in Musselburgh with great lumps of ice floating down it before it froze over at sunset.

How beautiful the scene was, birds spinning around in front of an orange sky and away from the setting sun, delicately coloured clouds tinted pink.  Colours I had seen in previous sunsets but everyone is of course unique - a most special work of art.

When the birds settled down for the night - the sounds of the ice being moved by the slow flow of the river. So strange to hear the sounds of the ice from this river I know through a lifetime of visits across the seasons. Visiting to feed ducklings in the Summer, pleased to see and hear the migrating geese in the Autumn and now, feeding hungry gulls and swans trying to survive this frozen land.

The poor birds and animals, how hungry they are as week after week the snow continues. Normally our average temperature is around 3 degrees, such sudden changes in the climate make it very difficult for nature to adapt. Feeding the birds really can make a difference between their life and death but be aware that white bread can cause rickets in swans and other problems for all birds so please ensure you help by giving brown bread, bird seed and, in your garden, try to have out a small amount of unfrozen water for them to drink. Full details of what to feed them (and what not to) can be found on http://www.rspb.org.uk/

Recently, I've also been to Arthur Seat, feeding the birds at the frozen lochs in the centre of Edinburgh. The other day a flock of Greylag pink footed geese had flown in from fields all covered with snow. What a lovely sound they make. Given my first diary as a child of five, the first entry I ever wrote was about visiting the park, further round at Duddingston Loch, having fed the geese on an outing with my mum and dad. How fortunate to live in Edinburgh, near to the sea and with parks and lochs which bring the countryside in to the city, indeed, Duddingston Loch being part of a Scottish Wildlife Trust nature reserve.

There are three lochs at Arthur Seat and the views from the hill are stunning - well worth the effort to climb up through the snow to look down on the city and see the other six hills that Edinburgh is built on.

Walking along 'the Radical Road' in Edinburgh I looked down on the city, Holyrood Palace, the Parliament, Calton Hill and Edinburgh Castle. The sunshine was weak through the frozen atmosphere yet, how beautiful the sunset over the Pentlands was.

Over the snow covered Pentlands, the setting sun was more beautiful to me than the Christmas lights that we put up but of course, such decorations also have their place.

At Musselburgh, by the Esk, a tree has been decorated with white lights - beautiful to see its reflections in the river. The flowing water making the lights shimmer even more , a sea of shimmering light.

And how could I post photos of this Winter Wonderland without including a photo from the coast and a snowy Port Seton as the fishing boats come home to land their catch, home at Christmas.

Over the years we build up relationships with family and friends. As time passes, we establish connections with people outwith our area - surely everyone wants to 'go home' for Christmas but it's because we want to be with those important to us. Now today, I think it is great how through the internet, we can easily connect to all those who are important to us in far away places all over the world. 

To all my friends and family, wherever you are, I wish you a very Happy festive season. For 2011, I send you my greetings for the year ahead. And lastly, I'd just like to say, I hope you have enjoyed my http://www.facebook.com/shonamcmillan.celticreflections Celtic Reflections and recent winter photos that I have shared with you all from my small part of this big and beautiful world that we all live in.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

Best wishes everyone, Shona.

"NOLLAIG SHONA"