Thursday, 13 September 2012

The Voice of the River Spey

purple evening on
the Findhorn dunes, 1

The Voice of the River Spey
I am the River,
Running, rushing
Over rapids and rocks,
Past roaches and rats
Rippling to rockpools

Thanks to Auldearn Primary School

building stories.....


There is something quite special about staying in town infected with tartan.My B&B has tartan carpets that anticipate a certain degree of something in a place. Fortunately, here tartan presages a relaxed atmosphere and a cheerful Scottische alongside the mantel-dogs and lightbulbs that die at awkward times. The Tartan restaurant notched things up a bit with tartan menus, placemats and bills as well as carpets an curtains. I almost dreaded what might become of icing on a cake or if the virgin expanse of a cheesecake would be resisted....

Overheard in another restaurant, the previous night

Elderly Lady diner, “I feel silly sitting on this big table by myself”
Burly middle-aged, male waiter, “That’s awright, hen. You sit where ye want.”
“If a group comes in, just ask and I’ll move”
“Och, it’s awright, we’ll just sit 'em down round ye”


I love this land

purple evening on the Findhorn dunes, 2

No comments:

Post a Comment