If I could escape, take myself anywhere, do anything and be anyone, I would travel North of the country and across the sea to the beautiful Isle of Skye.
The Isle of Skye is North off the inner Hebrides of Scotland and its mountain scenery coupled with its dramatic rocky slopes and open plains make for the most awe inspiring landscape I have ever seen. And I have never been!
I love, not only the vast expanse of patchwork greens and deep, stormy blues of the surrounding sea but the heritage and the tradition that the Isle represents. The MacLeod Clan and the Donald Clan dominated the Isle until the 18th century when the communities eventually, over time replaced them with sheep farms. The islands culture, although declined remains important to Skye's inhabitants and I find this so valuable even when its population is just over 10,000 people.
Known for its Agriculture, fishing and my favourite Whisky-distilling, I adore the quaint and relaxed way of life Skye represents. It truly is a retreat from the comings and goings of the busy and hectic life that so many of us can get swamped with, even in the English countryside!
Another true love of mine is the Autumn and Winter seasons that we experience in England. I have never liked the hot sticky months of July and June equalling in a truly grotesque and uncomfortable summer.
Skye would benefit me in this due to its climate of gale force winds and wet weather. I love the thought of curling up in my little signature white abode, with ceiling to floor windows spanning the entire side of the house, showing off the explosive view of the Isles vast and rich land, abundant in the local flora of stunning purple heather moor.
Not only would walking and rambling the countryside fill me with joy but being provided with such inspiration which I could paint would be a privilege. The landscape of Skye and its wildlife; the golden eagle, majestic red deer and Atlantic Salmon would provide me with endless sketches and artistic material in which to pursue.
The following poem I have found really, gives the right feel as to the embodiment that is Skye in all its wild, natural beauty.
Charlie At Versailles
Backwards, backwards let me wander
To the noble northern land:
Let me feel the breezes blowing
Fresh along the mountain-side;
Let me see the purple heather,
Let me hear the thundering tide,
Be it hoarse as Corrievreckan
Spouting when the storm is high
Give me but one hour of Scotland
Let me see it ere I die!
Oh, my heart is sick and heavy
Southern gales are not for me;
Though the glens are white with winter,
Place me there, and set me free;
Give me back my trusty comrades
Give me back my Highland maid
Nowhere beats the heart so kindly
As beneath the tartan plaid!
Flora! when thou wert beside me,
In the wilds of far Kintail
When the cavern gave us shelter
From the blinding sleet and hail
When we lurked within the thicket,
And, beneath the waning moon,
Saw the sentry's bayonet glimmer,
Heard him chant his listless tune
When the howling storm o'ertook us,
Drifting down the island's lee,
And our crazy bark was whirling
Like a nutshell on the sea
When the nights were dark and dreary,
And amidst the fern we lay,
Faint and foodless, sore with travel,
Waiting for the streaks of day;
When thou wert an angel to me,
Watching my exhausted sleep
Never didst thou hear me murmur
Couldst thou see how now I weep!
Bitter tears and sobs of anguish,
Unavailing though they be:
Oh, the brave, the brave and noble
That have died in vain for me!
by W.E. Aytoun.
Rach
"Set me free, let me be wild and roam the Isle of Skye!"
x
The Isle of Skye is North off the inner Hebrides of Scotland and its mountain scenery coupled with its dramatic rocky slopes and open plains make for the most awe inspiring landscape I have ever seen. And I have never been!
I love, not only the vast expanse of patchwork greens and deep, stormy blues of the surrounding sea but the heritage and the tradition that the Isle represents. The MacLeod Clan and the Donald Clan dominated the Isle until the 18th century when the communities eventually, over time replaced them with sheep farms. The islands culture, although declined remains important to Skye's inhabitants and I find this so valuable even when its population is just over 10,000 people.
Known for its Agriculture, fishing and my favourite Whisky-distilling, I adore the quaint and relaxed way of life Skye represents. It truly is a retreat from the comings and goings of the busy and hectic life that so many of us can get swamped with, even in the English countryside!
Another true love of mine is the Autumn and Winter seasons that we experience in England. I have never liked the hot sticky months of July and June equalling in a truly grotesque and uncomfortable summer.
Skye would benefit me in this due to its climate of gale force winds and wet weather. I love the thought of curling up in my little signature white abode, with ceiling to floor windows spanning the entire side of the house, showing off the explosive view of the Isles vast and rich land, abundant in the local flora of stunning purple heather moor.
Not only would walking and rambling the countryside fill me with joy but being provided with such inspiration which I could paint would be a privilege. The landscape of Skye and its wildlife; the golden eagle, majestic red deer and Atlantic Salmon would provide me with endless sketches and artistic material in which to pursue.
The following poem I have found really, gives the right feel as to the embodiment that is Skye in all its wild, natural beauty.
Charlie At Versailles
Backwards, backwards let me wander
To the noble northern land:
Let me feel the breezes blowing
Fresh along the mountain-side;
Let me see the purple heather,
Let me hear the thundering tide,
Be it hoarse as Corrievreckan
Spouting when the storm is high
Give me but one hour of Scotland
Let me see it ere I die!
Oh, my heart is sick and heavy
Southern gales are not for me;
Though the glens are white with winter,
Place me there, and set me free;
Give me back my trusty comrades
Give me back my Highland maid
Nowhere beats the heart so kindly
As beneath the tartan plaid!
Flora! when thou wert beside me,
In the wilds of far Kintail
When the cavern gave us shelter
From the blinding sleet and hail
When we lurked within the thicket,
And, beneath the waning moon,
Saw the sentry's bayonet glimmer,
Heard him chant his listless tune
When the howling storm o'ertook us,
Drifting down the island's lee,
And our crazy bark was whirling
Like a nutshell on the sea
When the nights were dark and dreary,
And amidst the fern we lay,
Faint and foodless, sore with travel,
Waiting for the streaks of day;
When thou wert an angel to me,
Watching my exhausted sleep
Never didst thou hear me murmur
Couldst thou see how now I weep!
Bitter tears and sobs of anguish,
Unavailing though they be:
Oh, the brave, the brave and noble
That have died in vain for me!
by W.E. Aytoun.
Rach
"Set me free, let me be wild and roam the Isle of Skye!"
x
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