Remembering

Every now and again my mind goes back to my encounters with Sophia, 6½ years ago. Some people don't understand why this has affected me so much, all those years afterwards. I do not dwell on what might have been. Whoever encountered her had a similar and profound experience. She opened right up to me - and I could do the same. We talked into the night, and on the last evening, it was 2.45 am before I left.

Sophia died of heart failure, brought on by a chest infection. I was told she had been suffering a bad cough in the days and weeks before her death. Some would say she didn't look after herself very well. But, I knew that she didn't take telling. A free and independent spirit, and that was probably the reason I didn't want to shackle her down in a "relationship". Hate that word.

I can still see her smiling face in the fading light of that March evening in 2013, with her little cat Torran. The angle-poise lamp, lit for my convenience. Yes, we shared a hug. Nothing wrong or untoward with that. I can still see the anguish in her face, as she battled with depression, which she held at bay by having a "stomp on the beach" nearby, or at Griminish, a few miles up the road. I was very pleased to hear that her participation in An Radio (now defunct) helped to lift her moods out of the darkness. The last photographs of her, cycling in Berneray, display that happiness.

The searing sense of loss, experienced by many, is as nothing as that shown by her cat. Although now happily living in a new forever home, I'm sure she still somewhere expects the tall figure of Sophia to come striding up to the house to collect her. She will return. When it is time for Torran to cross the Rainbow Bridge.

Sophia lives on in those who remember her, and I'm privileged to rank myself among them.

I may cross the Sound of Harris before the winter comes, and leave a little tribute near her old home in Berneray and / or North Uist.

Prorogation

Her Majesty the Queen yesterday approved a request from her Prime Minister to prorogue Parliament from September 9th-12th until October 14th. On the latter date, Her Majesty will open a new session of Parliament. It is customary for the Commons to be suspended ahead of such an occasion, but the PM is accused of stifling debate ahead of the looming date of Brexit, October 31st.

Boris Johnson is being accused of leading a Latin America style junta (or dictatorship), and his decision will likely attract legal challenges and a vote of no confidence in his administration.

My reaction is: what's the fuss all about.

We have had 38 months, since the Brexit referrendum, to organise the event. Previous PM Theresa May did not, in all that time, manage to get a deal (come to hate the word) that gained the approval of Parliament. That is an abysmal failure, on the side of the UK government as well as on the part of the EU.

To try to cobble together a new deal in a few weeks is unrealistic. The current one took more than two years to compile, and the EU (rightly) declines to change anything in it now.

The default option, and likely outcome now, is for Brexit to happen without a deal in place, with consequences unknown. We were never told what a no-deal Brexit would entail, because it would be negotiated - which has failed. To try to avert that now, at the eleventh hour, is unrealistic.

Good grief.

Birthday treat

On Tuesday (August 20th), I went on a boattrip to the Shiants, a group of islands some 20 miles south of Stornoway, midway between the coast of Lewis and Skye. The trip was taken on a fast RIB (rigid inflatable boat), which did 25 mph, fast on water. The skipper took us along the coast of Lochs, showing us sea eagles, seals, porpoises, cormorants and much more. The trip took 4 hours, and covered over 60 miles in distance.

I am posting a few of the 340 photographs I took that day; they can all be viewed on this link.

Birthday 2019

Memorial to the lost lighthouse keepers of the Flannan Isles, who disappeared on 15th December 1900.


Exhibition about the Flannan Isles lighthouse keepers


Callanish and the Pentland Road

Rain lashing down near Carloway
Threatening skies
Bragar

A tale of two Donalds

On 9 June 1888, Annie Macleod, living in the village of Knock, Point (in Lewis), gave birth to another child, Donald. He was the sixth, and not the last child. Two more followed, and by the start of 1894, eight children, varying in ages from 1 to 15 years, crowded into the dwelling. It drove the father, Hector, to distraction, to such an extent that he ended his life in September that year. Three months later, Annie also passed away.

The eight youngsters were taken into the care of the Quarrier Homes in Glasgow, and emigrated to Canada two years later.

Donald signed up for the Canadian Expeditionary Force at Calgary in October 1914, and was injured during the Battle of the Somme. He was transferred to War Hospital at Napsbury, where he passed away on 4 August 1916, at 9.45pm.

Due to an error in the paperwork, his remains were transferred to Benbecula, rather than Lewis, and the next-of-kin notified. The next of kin was thought to be Alex Macleod of Gramsdale, but when Alex came to the quayside at Peter Port in Benbecula, he did not recognise the dead man as his son. Nobody came to claim the soldier's remains, so the authorities interred it at Nunton, Benbecula, after a week. Donald Macleod, son of Alex, was alive, also serving with the Canadian Forces, and under a service number that only differed from the Lewis man by one digit. The Benbecula Donald Macleod was 79119, the Lewis man was 79110. Donald Macleod, Gramsdale, lived until 1952.

It has taken a century for this mystery to be cleared up. Three years ago today, three islanders stood by Donald's grave in Nunton Cemetery, and remembered his sacrifice. I did so from 64 miles away in Stornoway.

Lewis Carnival

Each year, on the first Saturday of August, a carnival procession passes through the streets of Stornoway. This year, the weather was excellent, attendance equally good and the number of floats encouragingly up on last year's paltry performance.