My cottage near the sea
Yesterday I mentioned that I might write about my fantasy of living on one of the “small islands”, namely Eigg. Well, truth be told, I may fantasize about living in a cottage by the sea, but very quickly reality gets the better of me when I think about actually living on a remote island. By remote I mean any island where I’d have to depend on a ferry to get there (and equally important, out of there). The romantic dream of growing my own food, milking my own cow, sheering my own sheep, not to mention weaving and spinning, so I can knit my own sweaters, doesn’t last long; believe me, I wake up suddenly with a jolt. I might like to participate in some of those tasks, well, some of the time, but I’m more of a sit-around kind of gal these days. Simplicity for me isn’t returning to the “simple” life on the croft, but simplifying what I have and what I have to do so I can lead my current ideal of a simple life.
On the other hand, I like knowing about the island and croft life of people through the years in Scotland. At the moment I’m reading “Seal Morning”, the autobiographical story of Rowena Farre, who from age ten to sixteen lived with her aunt in croft in Sunderland—in the mountains but not near the sea. It’s a lovely tale of their every day life there, and of their experiences with their many pets, which include a rat, two otters, a dog, and various birds and other animals that came and went during the years, And of course there was Lora, the seal. I say lovely, but in truth it was an every day tough life-and-death existence.
So, here I am, sitting in my cottage near the sea on my last day on Skye, with plenty of time to write or do whatever I want, asking myself what it is that draws me to this cottage life. Friends and strangers, intrigued and maybe mystified by my desire to find cottages near and by the sea, may ask me what I learned or discovered. I could offer a detailed list, and maybe I’ll share some of them another time; but for now, suffice to say that I hear God in the silence, solitude, and simplicity, and that, I believe, is what we humans are looking for, in our own particular way.
On the other hand, I like knowing about the island and croft life of people through the years in Scotland. At the moment I’m reading “Seal Morning”, the autobiographical story of Rowena Farre, who from age ten to sixteen lived with her aunt in croft in Sunderland—in the mountains but not near the sea. It’s a lovely tale of their every day life there, and of their experiences with their many pets, which include a rat, two otters, a dog, and various birds and other animals that came and went during the years, And of course there was Lora, the seal. I say lovely, but in truth it was an every day tough life-and-death existence.
So, here I am, sitting in my cottage near the sea on my last day on Skye, with plenty of time to write or do whatever I want, asking myself what it is that draws me to this cottage life. Friends and strangers, intrigued and maybe mystified by my desire to find cottages near and by the sea, may ask me what I learned or discovered. I could offer a detailed list, and maybe I’ll share some of them another time; but for now, suffice to say that I hear God in the silence, solitude, and simplicity, and that, I believe, is what we humans are looking for, in our own particular way.
Tomorrow I’m off to Oban and then to Iona for four nights. A week from today I’ll back in my cozy cottage at home.