All the lifestyle gurus say how important it is to have a bit of wildness in your life. They don’t mean tigers or even wolves, they mean nature. And although I’ll never be a lifestyle guru I do feel they’re right about this. (However, I’m still never going to drink a green smoothie.)
Whenever I go to our little corner of heaven, and stand on the foreshore by the loch and look at the expanse of water and the hills beyond I feel almost shocked at how beautiful it is. The burn, rushing (or idling, depending on recent rainfall) which is our fridge as well as our water supply, is a fairy glen. Watching my grandchildren playing in it is magical, especially when not so long ago (it seems) it was my children playing there.
I love fires and I love cooking over them. We had a new Dutch Oven this year and they are the slow cooker of the campsite. We cooked a wonderful stew on the ashes of the previous night’s fire, one day. We did baked potatoes the day before. (They didn’t take as long as we thought.) I love the challenge and discovering that you don’t need much flame, if any, if the fire has been going for a couple of days.
Life up there is different and quite hard work. There are no light switches, no taps, nothing instant. When we get home life suddenly seems ridiculously easy. What? You don’t have to take containers down to the burn so you can wash up? There’s a fridge and a deep freeze? That seems so amazing and for a while, you stop taking these things for granted.
But the refreshment this wild beauty gives me is priceless, and well worth being a bit grubby for. Seeing one of my youngest grandchildren, walking over the stones saying ‘ow ow ow’ but still carrying on was magical. As was seeing him when he found a deodorant. He pulled down his jumper and stuffed it under his arm. Obviously he’s only ever seen people apply deodorant after they’ve put their clothes on. It’s not just me who does this then!
Cheryl Brockwell says...
I have enjoyed your books immensely.
This blog almost reads as if it was straight out of Thyme Out.
Or perhaps Thyme Out used the experience of the Loch and Burn.
One day, I hope to visit and discover for myself the delights that my grandmother left so long ago.
In Australia, the wilderness is different, harsher often and frequently dry. Yet its rugged beauty, especially where the mountains meet the sea, is always a spirit lifter.
Thanks for writing. I look forward to the next installment.
November 01, 2020
Throughout my school holidays this year, I have re-read all of your books, and when finishing them, I feel like I’ve lost old friends.
Literally, 3 books a week! Sod the housework!
I can truly see how beautiful it must be in the rough and ready of the Scottish highlands to get yet more inspiration for another book? Please….
Thank you for helping me to relax this summer in particular with all the sadness in the world.
Your books have been my rescue remedy. Thank you.
August 30, 2020
I love reading your books. It takes me to a place where everything gets sorted out in the end.
It’s my relief from the daily life.
Alison Craig says...
Beautiful sentiments. Having been locked down in Scotland it has made me count my blessings and no longer take extraordinary day to day sights for granted. Becoming a goldfinch stalker and herb grower 2020 has been a revelation. Swinging in my hammock, in my dressing gown, a glass of wine clasped in one hand and binoculars round my neck, sausage dog tucked in beside me has horrified my husband and son – which is precisely why I do it. Enjoy your well earned break x Alison
Jill O'Hara says...
This sounds idyllic. We used to stay in Wales on a campsite that only had a cold tap and no electric – we stayed for the whole summer and never missed (well almost never : ) ) the comforts of home. It was pure and simple. I’d go back but it doesn’t exist now – thoroughly modernised and spoilt for me. We go to Scotland now and you can still find the peace and air – it is so lovely.