To Craig with Joanna and Margaret

High along a coastal path we came,

Views stretched out across the bay.

A shining grey sky melding with the restless sea.

I take a mental picture of a rock, a sculpture,

Set before us as if precisely placed.  

I see it falling, thousands of years ago,

Through ice, now set in a perfect pool of light.

To Craig, the candle-lit bothy, domain of the midge.

Our Dutch hosteler took us down to the bay,

Where since the dawn of time,
From boats, overboard were thrown sacks of coal,

Onto the beach at high tide.

Together we reclaim them from the sea,

Gleefully dragging them up the bank,

To warm the mildest summer evening. 

In Lower Diabaig were heard Gallic spoken. 

View of Skye- with Joanna Beckitt (nee Burnet-Stuart) and Margaret