And God said: Let there be a place made of stone
out off the west of the world,
roughed nine months by gale
rattled in Atlantic swell.
A place that rouses each Easter
with soft blessings of flowers
and shocks of white shell sand;
a place found only sometimes
by those who have lost their way
Ken Steven wrote the poem, a friend of the Rev. Joyce Watson’s, with whom I’m staying on the island. They are partners in producing cards, with his words and her photos. Here is my lovely host outside BEANNACHD, which means “Blessing”.
Joyce tells me that people sometimes pronounce it Be Knackered, which would be about right at this stage in my journey, especially after the West Highland Way and Ben Nevis!
Yes, my body is stiff and tired, and of course I have all kinds of emotions now this epic journey is coming to an end. There is so much to process and reflect on, but I just don’t have the capacity today. There is a very real sense of being right at the edge of the world here.
I have really enjoyed being with the Iona Community for worship in the Abbey. Sharon, their Warden, made me very welcome and invited me, and Joyce, to share the evening meal at the Macleod Centre. Here we are after the communion service yesterday evening.
I also had the great pleasure to meet Jeremy, of the Levellers. We got into conversation on the ferry and I discovered that he comes here every year for a time of quiet and reflection. We chatted about the state of things, housing and homelessness, community, the travelling life, and all sorts of other stuff. We also share an appreciation of the single malt whiskeys, especially the smokey, peaty ones!
I am missing Francoise and the younger Murrays, and look forward to being home. But the view from Joyce’s window is pretty good..
..as was the Abbey and St Martin’s Cross with the moon rising, the night before last. Slightly blurred.. mysterious and atmospheric though..
I’ve got to start preparing for the journey back to London today: the ferry from Iona, the bus across Mull, then the ferry from Mull to Oban. Some call that a pilgrimage in itself.. Then the train from Oban to Glasgow and a bunk on the Caledonian sleeper train, getting into Euston about 6.30am.
It will be strange to be back in London after 2 months away, but I’m glad to have a good week left of my sabbatical to write some more, get re-connected with Francoise and the family, and friends in London.