Life cycles…

Towards the back end of 2007 a walker went missing in the hills above Colintraive. I wrote about it here, and here.

The area in which she went missing is not particularly dramatic- it is rough hill country, rising to a maximum height of around 300 meters, and heavily forested. The woman concerned was fit, well equipped and very experienced- a former teacher from Perthshire in her early sixties.

Despite extensive searches of the area, she was never found. I have often thought of her as I have driven, walked and canoed around where she was lost.

A couple of weeks, two sea kayakers were exploring Loch Striven, and set up camp in an area I know well- a flat patch of land that is only reachable by boat, and has signs of old habitation- I have canoed there with my family, and explored the remains of the houses. It is a lovely, romantic spot. We took a trip there in 2008-

The two Kayakers ventured a little further into the woods then we did- climbing up a steep gully through the trees.

And by some miracle, they stumbled across an orange survival bag and a rucksack.

More out of curiosity they cut the bag open- and discovered the remains of the missing walker.

I feel strangely satisfied that the walkers body has been found. It feels like a circle completed. Family are able to lay their loved one to rest, and a mystery has been solved. Or at least- partially solved. We will never know why she died, or what combination of circumstances contributed to her death.

The other thing that feels right is the humanity that the community celebrates in relation to this lady. The extensive searches- by police and by her friends in a mountaineering club (searches that must have passed very close to where she actually lay.) These searches were not done with even a flicker of resentment- just concern and care.

Then there was the final discovery- the kayakers, the doctors who examined the remains, the police who stayed with the body all night before it could be recovered, the contact with family…

It sometimes seems that our hold on life is so tenuous- a bit like the settlement in the photographs above, all too soon we are overtaken by time and sucked back into the ground.

But humanity is not just bones and buildings- we also have spirit and soul.

May one soul be climbing still.

Still-to-come, coming…

I have been writing some things for an up and coming Aoradh Wilderness retreat. We are heading off to the McCormaig Islands at the head of Loch Sween in a few weeks- 12 of us this year, and so I have been preparing some resources.

Here is part of a set of dispatches…

You are wrapped up in me

And I am bound up in you

.

We are held together by soft binding

Like tender shoot and stake

Like gift and gift giver

Like mud and gentle rain

Like worn shoe and weary foot

Like hot tea and cracked pot

.

Like universe and all those flickering stars

Like ocean and rolling wave

Like field and each tender blade of grass

 

There is now

And there is our still-to-come

.

Coming

 

Family road trip…

We are home after a rather exhausting trip round the country, visiting family.

First my brother and his wife, and little Jaimie at their new home in Haddington, below Edinburgh. Then down to Derbyshire/Nottinghamshire to see our wider family. It was lovely to see them all-

Michaela’s mum and my Mum.

My sister and her family. (Including a lovely night sat round a fire singing songs in their garden.)

Michaela’s brother and sister.

And her dad and his wife.

Then a trip down to Towcester to deliver Emily, who is off on a sailing trip on the Norfolk broads.

Then home via a wee party in Lancashire with some old friends.

Throw in some decorating, DIY, shopping trips and a lovely service in Derby Cathedral with some other old friends, and no wonder we are tired.

Tonight we will sleep soundly in our own beds…

Yesterday was Michaela’s birthday. We went on a trip to a public hall in South Normanton, where there was a display of local historical photographs- including this one, of Michaela’s paternal grandmother and great aunt, pushing two of her aunts in prams back in 1938.

 

We took this photograph- of three generations of Michaela’s family- her father (and wife Janet,) along with his sister Mavis (one of the babies in the prams above) then Michaela and her brother Chris, finally William.

Family is important. The threads that hold us all are stretched over long distances now, but it was a good journey…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.