HIGHLAND REFLECTIONS



Kinlochbervie, Shona McMillan ©

Can a photo depict a person? To choose but a single image, does that risk conveying only one aspect of a multi-dimensional life?

People identified: consultant, photo-journalist, musician...

NOT a label, each person is a combination of parts eg: business skills from their day job, creative, sporting and artistic pursuits that nourish heart, body and soul. Their outlook on life - shaped by  home, family and friends.

Educated in Edinburgh, visiting East Lothian relatives, and after a lifetime of Highland holidays and music travels abroad, all these experiences combine to make up the person I am.

Durness, Shona McMillan ©

Returning from Sutherland to finish my weekend in Edinburgh, with Irish friends over for the Scots Fiddle Festival - it tugs on the heart strings not to be able to see all those I care for in different places when I want to but that is both the curse and the joy of the modern world.  Born in Edinburgh, I have been able to travel, put down roots in more than one place and develop friendships at home and abroad. Friends who, reflect and gel with different parts of my life in the ever moving social and business circles everyone forms over the years.

In Edinburgh, Arthur Seat the extinct volcano,
Described like a lion guarding the city, Shona McMillan ©



Yet, in Edinburgh now, still how powerful the feelings of having been with family. And, when I was alone in Sutherland, it felt like even the land seemed to welcome me home. So many memories, years of growing up in the place, shared lifes and times... With one friend, when we hugged, there was nothing said for the longest time but no words could have communicated more powerfully the depth of our unspoken bond.  A continuing friendship, built up over many years, through the love of the generations of our families now gone.



13.11.10: Durness to Kinlochbervie, Shona McMillan ©



Finally, when I left the area, the sun had dropped behind the hills and there seemed an incredible hush. The silence felt as powerful as the unspoken words in the embrace of my friend. I drove without music on and my window open but there was no sound of bird song. But, as I drove by a loch, a deer stood there motionless. I stopped, reversed and then got out but still, it did not move as I walked towards it. 

Stag on the Lairg Road, Shona McMillan ©

Coming in from Lairg, along the Kinlochbervie to Durness road, the mountains seem to tower over the land, almost like great, mighty beasts that are positioned to guard the communities below. Out of this photo to the left stands Foinaven, surely my most favourite mountain of all. In Kinlochbervie at sunrise, Foinaven is the first mountain touched by the rays of the sun as it rises over the sea at Durness. Now in the dusk, I felt so close to the old country, the land which endures the passing of the seasons, the years and all things.

Standing there, it felt almost as if the deer had come to bid farewell. For some time we watched each other, until I knew it was time to let go and journey on. I broke the silence with "Goodbye". At that, the stag slowly turned and moved away, it's long legs passing elegantly through bracken and heather without a sound, back towards the loch until it was gone from sight.

I walked back to my car to begin my long drive back, a journey south to friends, music and laughter. Yet in my heart, part of me was and ever remains at home in Sutherland.  My reflections on my friends and time spent in the Highlands (and similarly in Ireland) these relationships are so very important to me - wherever I am they are with me, an intrinsic part of who I am, my past, present and future.

 

Mountains on the Lairg Road, Shona McMillan ©



A long way from my experience on the Lairg Road, back in Edinburgh studying my photos of the deer, something in its quiet expression reminded me of a poem that I had written nearly twenty years before. A poem begun, not in the quiet beauty of the Highlands or even on one of my many trips to Ireland but started on an evening as I stood at a window in Milan watching the absolute confusion of an evening rush hour. A poem from my desire to climb a mountain away from all the noise, to be at home again in the Highlands, able to look down on the land from Suilven in Assynt or Foinaven at Kinlochbervie.



Suilven in Assynt, Shona McMillan ©

Staying in a friend's house, having travelled from Naples, this girl with a mix of the Highlands and a love in her heart had actually considered being married in Italy. Now, from the window in Milan, I saw so little greenery. Across the street, some poppies caught in a warm breeze. Above me, swallows that darted and dived. Like wild geese in flight, I knew they would be calling out to each other but their singing was lost in the dusty, fume filled noise of the traffic.



Portobello: Wild geese over  the Firth of Forth, Shona McMillan ©

It was at this moment that I knew so clearly where my home was. I would always love visiting Italy (and indeed, some years on I was seconded to work there and lived in Rome for several months). Yet, on that day in Milan, so far from Scotland and all the Celtic culture that was and is so very important to me, I knew that Italy was not a place where I could choose to live forever, settle and make my home - sooner first, my home was in a "wee fishing village" in Scotland. Previously in Naples, in the seemingly never ending noise, I had asked my partner - "How do you survive all this chaos?" He said he created a quiet place inside his head and carried it with him.  

Fisherrow harbour, as a boat comes in at sunset, Shona McMillan ©

Watching the scene from that window, I saw many visions of Scotland in my mind. From the strength of my Highland reflections, the words of this poem just flowed out of me. Words from the dawning of my own understanding that whether I be in Italy, Edinburgh or indeed, any other place in the world, everything of true importance was already carried within me, held so deeply in my heart.



From Polin beach Kinlochbervie to Foinaven, Arkle & Stack, Shona McMillan ©

As with the Highland photo which opens this Blog, one I have chosen for my current business card, I very much appreciate the beauty of Sutherland. However, I also KNOW it is not just the beauty of a place but the people and the memories which make it so very special.



Durness, where the community there and at
Kinlochbervie (KLB) so welcomed my family, Shona McMillan ©

My poem reflects how my family and friends contributed to my appreciation of the natural enviornment around me. In addition, how through travel, meeting new people and learning about their life, I could take the oppotunity to develop a greater appreciation of culture, music and the arts. I learnt too, how to turn around something which had not worked, to fully embrace the philosophy that it is better to try to do something (and fail) than to let a fear of failure stop you from trying to achieve it in the first place.

13.11.10: Saying farewell to Durness
The start point of my journey to Edinburgh, Shona McMillan © 

My poem finishes with the title of a book a dear friend in America gave me 21 years ago. Susan Jeffer's: "Feel the fear but do it anyway!" - a lasting quote from the book that I still repeat today is: "Ships in the Harbour are safe but they weren't built for that!"

Myself at Kinlochbervie, Shona McMillan © All Rights Reserved

FEEL THE FEAR BUT DO IT ANYWAY

 I take my freedom, to soar as a swallow

Or dance as a poppy, which sways with the breeze

Breathing in deep, the soft scent of wildflowers

My spirit enlightened, by wind through the trees

In dew drops that sparkle, I see Nature's magic

Delight in the beauty, of land kissed by the rain

Inspired by rainbows, where others see storm clouds

Wise from the lessons, which caused me such pain

My heart it is strengthened, by every sunset I witness

My hope springs eternal, in each sunrise I see

Solitude my salvation, friendship my pleasure

Strength and conviction, to stay true to me




Oldshoremore beach at Kinlochbervie, Shona McMillan ©

 

Call of the wild geese, beckoning to adventure

Wind through a swan’s wing, encouraging my flight

Eternal sea surge, lullaby to life’s worries

Moon and singing blackbird, joy of my night

Music my companion, voice of emotions

Dolphins swimming strong, in my deepest of seas

Starlight that guides, the path of my journey

While moonlight awakens, the dreamer in me

‘Till one day at last, I’ll climb high up on Foinaven

And there cast my eyes, on my life as I may

And see that my strength, came out of life's learning

That ’tho I felt the fear, I did it anyway

  Shona McMillan ©

Foinaven and Arkle reflected in the loch at Kinlochbervie
All Photos by Shona McMillan © All Rights Reserved

FAREWELL HIGHLAND FLOWER

The Yellow Iris is such a beautiful flower, when I see it I think of the Highlands where it can be seen to bloom in abundance on marshy land. I chose this flower today, as I share this personal entry, for a very dear friend whose courageous battle against cancer has come to an end.

Reflecting back on my friendship with Iris - I don't remember when I first met Iris Mather because, quite literally, I was just a 'babe in arms'. However, I do know that we met through my family, visiting Mather's shop in Sutherland. Back then, Durness was an even smaller Highland village than it is today. On the North West coast, over 260 miles from Edinburgh, crossing many miles of single-track road and before the building of the Kessock and Kylesku bridges, it was a very, very long trip to make and pulling our small caravan it took my family around 12 hours to reach there. With so few 'tourists' visiting at that time we were unusal in holidaying there but my family were  so welcomed in to the area that it became for us like a 'second home.'

In these early days the shop was owned by her dad, Jimmy Mather and oh, what a character he was, a really lovely man and Iris grew up to reflect his good qualities, his humour, compassion and kindness. At the heart of the community was Iris at Mather's shop and doing more than one job (as is the custom in small areas) you could meet her when she was driving a bus over to Cape Wrath and also, driving everyone to dances and other events all over Sutherland. In addition, Iris was always to be seen at the Durness Highland Games and, after her many years of involvement in their organisation, most fittingly, Iris was the 2010 Chieftain of the Games. As she had said to me in a phonecall in the lead up to that day, "if I have to get up from my sick bed to make the Games I will do it, this means so much to me". I am very pleased that it was a date that Iris kept!

On the cliff tops, where Durness Highland Games are held

For once the day was about Iris, tho' for me, my memories reflect all the other games, Iris ALWAYS running around, there to help, making sure everything was organised, going as it should and everyone having a great time. She was the sort of woman, as captured in this photo - in the middle of such a busy day, Aly Bain, that year was a Chieftain of the Games and having a drink, I had just been offered one but said "no, but Iris, have you any sandwiches?" and yes, she produced a plastic tub (peoples needs always well thought out so you could ask her and she'd always have a suggestion or a solution, always doing her best to help, with good grace and a warm smile).



2005 Durness Highland Games: Aly Bain, Iris and me

Over my entire lifetime I have called in to see Iris, at her shop or her house, on every trip to the North (it wouldn't have been a proper trip to Durness if I hadn't). On my last trip 'home to Durness' she was the last person I made special time to go and see and to hug goodbye to. And, it was that very special embrace you give a person when you have known them your entire life and... you know they are fighting cancer. Whether they are telling you the latest good or bad news about their condition, inside you quietly speak unspoken words - "please don't let this be our last goodbye". Yet, for us that was farewell and, after a long time blethering to her in her kitchen there she was, waving to me from her garden gate and me tooting the car horn as I set off to drive back to Edinburgh. That day when Iris hugged me she laughed, "ah the baby I held and the toddler I lifted on to the shop counter to choose which sweeties to give you" - "Aye well then, I quipped - it's all your fault I've had too many sweeties" and I gave her an even closer squeeze in my arms.

I feel fortunate to have known this woman, this special woman that you could call - the 'salt of the earth'. From her small shop in the North West Highlands, the relationships that she built up with locals and tourists alike have created many positive ripples out around the world so that Iris will be sadly missed by very many people. For me, like the sunshine Yellow Iris which flowers so brightly in the Highlands, my time spent with Iris Mather has brightened my life.

My thoughts go out to all her family and her many friends -

From her wee shop in the Highlands, Iris touched so many lives

FAREWELL IRIS

People and places, build up our world

These special friends, that shape us

Their warm smile, that lights our way

Laughter, love and words they say

So when it comes, their time to leave

Their special memories, still live on

And we reflect, how much they gave

For all of that, will keep us strong

Shona McMillan 10.11.10

R.I.P IRIS MATHER