Speaking Gaelic....

On Wednesday night I stayed with my friends, John Bain and Deirdre Mackintosh.
I've known John Bain since before I was born and Deeds a few years after.
There is not enough space on the internet,
nor in all the universes that we know so far
to tell how much they mean to me.

On Thursday afternnoon, when I woke up,
I went to hear the Gaelic Poets; Meg Bateman
(who wrote a poem that haunts even more today than the first time I read it)
and Colin Peter Campbell.
From them I know now that to love and laugh and cry without restraint
you need to speak Gaelic.

Afterwards, knowing I was leaving the North soon, I drove to the Black Isle.
I stepped out of the car and above me hovered this Red Kite. Oh God.
A thousand cups would easily overflow on such a day....