O'h dear where has the sunshine gone? We had so hoped for a walk in Sannox but rain stopped play. Luckily Pete had packed a lovely picnic so we headed to Lochranza. I don't think I have ever eaten my picnic outside in Lochranza and today was no different. The rain pelleted down, the mist closed in and we all sat in the car and chomped away quite happily.
We had only spotted one deer on the edge of someone's garden but had seen none on the hillsides. Mind you that was probably because we couldn't see the hillsides! A trip to Lochranza is not complete until you have had a coffee at the Whisky Distillery. This business oozes class from the moment you step through the door. It tells the simple story of the mountain water that turns into whisky. For a business based on a small Scottish island it punches way above its weight by exporting its fine malts all over the world. I am not a whisky drinker but I know people who are and they tell me that the Arran whiskeys are something rather special. Must be the water...
The water makes a good cup of coffee as well. We were delighted to find a wonderful photographic exhibition by our local GP who had taken photographs from a rescue exercise. He has joined the Mountain Rescue and is capturing some of the amazing work they do in photographs. My growing fascination for photography continues and one day I hope to get one of those cameras that make you look important. Of course, I shall never be able to figure out how to work it but I won't care because I will look important. My little Canon will do me nicely for now. In this little snap in the café Pete is surrounded by his own personal halo as well he might be after making such a lovely picnic for everyone!
Only Max will let me take pictures as the other children are 'so over that' in their lives as you can see from George turning the other way just at the precise moment the picture is taken. Max has that look in his face that tells me he is thinking something funny and is not about to share it with me. I don't care because his smile would light up any dark place.
On the way home we took some photos of the blossom that has finally opened despite the poor weather today. Yesterdays blast of sunshine was enough to persuade it out but I am quite sure it is regretting it today. The light was awful but I took the shots anyway because it might be all gone tomorrow. Learning from our Japanese friends that blossom is so transient, as is life itself.
So, the day wasn't what it might have been but that is Arran weather for you and you just have to get on with it. I like the changeable nature of the weather because I love the drama of it all. There was a particularly high tide today and the waves were crashing onto the shore. I love that every bit as much as the beauty of the sun on the sea yesterday. It is all about embracing that changeable state and living with it rather than resisting it. I am sure that island living is not for everyone and the changeable weather plays a part in that. When you have studied as long as I have with Waverly Fitzgerald you learn to love the changes and live in the moment. So, the light wasn't perfect for the photo of the blossom but that doesn't make the blossom less perfect.
Journey to Lochranza
As I entered the green corridor on the outskirts of Brodick
I realised that it had suddenly become about the journey. I was en route to Lochranza castle, at the
north of the island, but it was the journey that began speaking to me first.
I felt I should creep through the corridor of green trees
that framed my beginning. I knew to be
still and quiet; I was already listening to my journey. It began to fill me with joy like a good
journey should.
In Buddhism much is made of ‘intention’. Intention comes before an act and journey
comes before destination. The intention
today was to capture the spirit of Lochranza castle in images and words. That was still ahead of me, but first came
the journey north.
Heading north on Arran is always
a glorious experience filled to the brim with sights, sounds and unexpected
feelings of awe juggled with feelings of loneliness as you witness the scale of
the landscape.
Today was no different.
For me the excitement really stirs as you turn away from Sannox and
start to climb. On this journey as the
climb began so the greyness appeared , just on the edges at first. A soft, blowing grey that signalled the new
weather that awaited me in Lochranza. It
felt like a warm autumn blanket and so very familiar. As the greyness slowly began to frame the
picture I entered the picture and I was suddenly a tiny dot on this magnificent
landscape. You could paint my little red
car into the painting and it would contrast well with the seeping greyness.
The mountains held onto their colour and painted a collage
of colour and texture that none of us could compete with and we wouldn’t want
to. The mountains are the soul of the
picture and the flowing water the spirit carrying this soul into our
hearts. Looking ahead even the sky was
bowing to the mountains and had created a neat and subtle triangle to sit just
above them.
As the little red dot moved through the picture it released
more and more of its meaning. If
intention is what we were about then I intended to be here. The mountains and the water intended to be
here and they intended to stay. They
would still be here long after my little red dot had left the planet and I
understood that.
Just at that exact moment of understanding the first drips
hit my world. Heavy and loud they made
an immediate impact and their presence was felt. Quickly they gathered pace and before long
the soft grey sky had turned dark and the rain emptied from the sky. It emptied onto me and it emptied onto the
mountains that stood tall, embracing the moment. The flowing water paid attention and welcomed
these new drops that would soon fill them up and join them on their
journey.
Approaching Lochranza the sky was emptying with such fury
that my little red dot needed to shelter away from the road and, in an instant,
entered the world of the island distillery.
A world with its own production journey and its own, very proud,
vision. As I left the red dot to recover,
and entered the world of the distillery, I could feel the power. I could feel the power of the water, it
surrounded every sound in the building, dominating and controlling. This was the water from the mountains and it
was time to listen. I sat and listened
and heard a million stories and yet one sung out. A story of pride that said so much about the
north of the island. It welcomed me and
encouraged me to just be, completely at one with the story. It was not a story to listen to, it was a
story to step inside and I loved that. I
felt at home with that story as the water washed all that I was at that moment.
My mind emptied as I moved within the story and once again intention
returned. It had become crystal clear
that I was ‘intended’ to be here. I was
delaying my visit to the castle, I was delaying my destination. I was content to delay my destination and to
explore this story some more. I sat
among the land of the eagles and looked up into the sky above that framed my
favourite story. There were no eagles in
the sky but that didn’t matter. The
greyness was slowly being replaced with hints of blue and the menacing clouds
were parting. I was sad as I liked my
autumn blanket and I had grown to love the greyness. However, I understood that the time had come
for a change and that the oasis of the distillery had served its purpose. As I
descended from the land of the eagles I felt a strong sense of triumph. The strength of the story told so well by the
water would live on. I would take it
with me and I would tell others about it and the story would unravel into the
world. It would take its place at the
centre of what is northern Arran and I would
remember it forever.
I was ready to meet my destination.
Until tomorrow. xx
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