Day 209 - I take too much from the world. xx

Sunday 28th July

I am in the middle one!

I am already in a different space and time noted last night when it didn't get dark until almost midnight.  I watched the sun setting over the Isle of Rum and drank tea.  The most perfect evening.  I am loving my little wooden cocoon and already getting so much writing done that I have proved my own theory correct; that I need to be alone to write.  Convincing myself of an Eigg monster got me out of my sleeping bag to find a rather large gull dancing on my roof just as it got light. 

Today the island has been shrouded in fine, misty rain and it makes the remoteness more acute.  After a productive morning of writing Molly appeared out of the mist and off we went in search of the singing sands.  Within moments our feet were soaked through and that was before Molly led us through a bog.  We had somehow managed to miss the beaten track down to the coast so ended up in a boggy field complete with rather large bull.  We shouldn't be allowed out on our own.  The complete lack of car sounds makes Eigg immediately appealing as the soundscape echoes the chants of nature.  You enter a new type of alertness and it feels slightly alien.  Nothing is quite how it usually is and that creates a continual process of reflection.  Despite living on a Scottish island this is a very different experience and it is a much deeper connection with the natural world.  You instinctively know that mother nature is in charge of this game and you are rather insignificant.   I like insignificance and I like Eigg. 

My internal struggle remains in tact as I discover a land where I feel I should not be.  I have never stepped onto a place where I didn't feel I had every right to be so it is a completely unique feeling.  I tried to put that aside on our walk so I could just listen to the land and see what it was saying.  One boggy detour later we find the path we should have been on and make our way down to the singing sands.  To my delight the sands did, indeed, sing as I stepped onto them.  It is a high pitched sound made by your shoes so no mermaids emerging from the sea in full choral glory.  The white sands are  dusted with black specks from the dominant rocks and there is a virgin quality about the landscape that is truly captivating.  With the shrouded Isle of Rum watching over us we walked the length of the beach and scrambled up the rocks. 

Let me tell you these are not any ordinary rocks.  The tales of time are etched into every layer and the vivid colours and shapes create the most stunning sculptural experience.  The salty sea erosion has created small cracks that shape views and call you over.  Nature has even created a natural walkway to move from one part of the sands to thee other.  Despite the lack of natural light a camera is a must on a walk like this as Eigg reveals its many charms. 

 

While on the beach I was struck by the difference.  There were footprints in the sand made by seabirds and humans.  The seabirds had the lightest of touches while our footprints left a noticeable hole in the sand.  All at once my feeling that I should not be there returned and when we began to leave the sands behind us we came across a skeleton of a small gull and the imagery in my head became about as vivid as it gets. 

Molly puts up an excellent and well considered counter argument that I know to be true.  In the short time I have been here I can see evidence of an harmonious relationship between people and wildlife so I am not debating that.  My debate centres on a deeply personal challenge about just how much I take from the world compared to how much I give.  I take more than I need and do not give nearly as much as I should. 












It is a good internal struggle that is reflective and responsive and so I am contend to let it stay with me for further pondering.  How much do I really need from the world to exist happily and how much more can I give and in what ways can this be achieved?  Useful questions I think that had their roots in the very first step I took on Eigg. I am already in debt to this most beautiful of places. 

Knowing that this trip is captivating my every thought I have sensibly created a separate page for it so that I might share some more photographs and creative writings.  I have also found time to put my first entry onto the balanced child page including notes from one of my lovely readers.  I have managed a first draft of my stress busting manifesto so I am now more confident of publication in the coming days.  All this in one day.  I rest my case about my coccon living on the Isle of Eigg. 

Until tomorrow.  xx