Last week a noisy flock of low-flying geese passed over my house while I was in the garden. ‘How nice for you,’ I thought. ‘Leaving Brexit Britain. Hope they let you back in next Spring.’ How ridiculous. Of course the geese can return. They can go where they like, live harmoniously in their temporary accommodation, and be off to the next place without a thought. They belong where they choose to be. If they find the conditions of their present situation hostile, they can leave for another – no documents, no passport, no problem. I never thought I’d be so envious of geese. The society I grew up in was deeply religious (I’m not), rabidly patriotic (which skeeves me out on so many levels), and rigidly structured (nope). I was made to stand and pledge allegiance to a flag every morning in school. I also had to say grace before I was allowed to eat lunch. Boys were allowed to chase me on the playground, but I wasn’t allowed to chase back because that wasn’t …
I didn’t like this lens, so I sold it. When I look back on the photos I took with it, I’m a little sad.
Still one of my favourite places to visit.
On the back road to Stirling near Plean.
Here’s a confession: I used to really dislike the SNP. I’d go so far as to say I actively disliked them. Were my reasons valid? I’m not sure. I voted against Scottish independence in 2014 because I didn’t find the SNP’s case to be credible, and I believed Scotland would be out of the EU if we left the UK. From my perspective, the 2014 referendum was exhausting. For those of us on the No side, there were no marches, no gatherings, no messages of togetherness or hope. For us there was nothing but negative news (‘project fear’) and a really uneasy feeling in the gut that we were voting against fear instead of voting for hope. As I’ve said many times, there was no joy in saying no, and I felt low for months afterwards – which is part of what caused me to dislike the SNP. I held them responsible for my low mood because I felt they’d pushed me into making an awful decision I didn’t want to make. And I worried they were going to ask …
Fallen sycamore leaf on the beach at Ettrick Bay.
Standing stones protected in a farmer’s field.
Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with just how big the world is.
Port Bannatyne, Isle of Bute.
They look like pterodactyls to me.
Argyle has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth – even on a grey day.
Heading back to the magical isle this evening. I’m looking forward to watching the weather from the front window of the flat.
A friendly Bute seal wishing you a lovely weekend.