ROTHESAY: Returning to Our Roots

Oh, if it were not so tedious AND terrifying to get to where one wants to be going! When we made it to Weymess Bay, Scottish side, we parked our car in the queue and ate a quick lunch of scone and soup, then drove onto the large and quite luxurious ferry, and enjoyed the half hour journey to the Isle of Bute. First thing we found was great grandmother's house: £21 Russell Street. Still standing (that sturdy Scottish stone). The place where Janet lived until she was twelve with her sister and mother (Sarah McMurrin) Sarah, born in Glasgow, left the little isle of  Bute with her two youngest daughters, "running away" from her husband who opposed her membership in the LDS Church, hiding her clothes, breaking her fingers when she opposed him by going to meetings. She could not even read,  but she had the courage of her convictions, and  her daughter, Janet, sang in the Tabernacle Choir, as did her granddaughter, Jessie Evans Smith!   We met a charming, gracious man who copied maps for us, gave us discounts, and reminded us of the importance this small island castle held in the days of Robert the Bruce and after. Rich history here, but ancient and "pre-history", and we saw, in the small museum, many relics of many times -- also Stuffed Birds, including English Robins, tiny baby seagulls that look like yellow baby chicks, huge seagulls and ravens -- also a seal, tall hares, and much more.

Outside Great Grandma's house

chapel inside ruined castle

Solstice Walk

Driving through a wonderland of frost and the early shades of a cold sunset, Mairi and I headed to Kilmartin Glen, not minding that we followed a slow truck, for the scenery, with mist and cloud and colors staining the gray lochs we passed by needed more time for reflection than a fast passing through.
COLD. We arrived at last, could not find our B&B, asked directions, were led to the steep entrance into parking behind the old Manse. We were the only inmates, and the landlord was kindly (or jolly, as Mairi would say) and we bundled up again to walk down to the inn to eat salmon salad and venison pie.

Up at out of doors by eight in the morning, gathering with a group of about twenty other enthusiasts to walk to Solstice Path of ancient times: Standing Stones, rare, because of the markings upon them, dating back to neolithic times; Chambering Cairns, neolithic, smaller ones of bronze age.  Much walking in several inches of snow over rough hummocks of grass, with black-faced Scottish sheep to keep us company. Amazingly warm, though slipping and sliding a  bit, with tempt. in the teens. Privy to a full, rich history, more strong in this area than any other in Scotland. The memories kindly made room for us, but the frozen stones were indifferent in their beauty and sturdiness, and kept all their knowledge securely sealed, unapproachable.

One of the first standing stones, so self-contained, is it not? Does it see, or feel, the  sunrise seeping into the sky?

Mairi outside low cist burial.

Fifteenth century grave slabs, wondrous, yes?

Mairi's Tree

Mairi purchased a Christmas tree - a Fraser Fir - on Great George Street. A new red star for the top and decorations from Utah, New York an Glasgow.

Mairi with her Santa hat which she wears everywhere.

Wild Jaunts with Mairi

Glasgow is a world of its own,  but Mairi has her finger on the heart of it.

Has the snow and cold hurt? No, it has enhanced. No streets are cleared, there is ice everywhere, but we walk boldly forward--our eyes up to see the dark spires of the university buildings, and darting here and there to catch sight of the birds -- magpies, sleek and fat, crows, and seagulls! Yes, seagulls, some very diminutive delicate ones. And bushes bristling with small brown, blue-breasted titmouse birds, enchanting in their energy and beauty.

HIGHLIGHT so far is the Glasgow University Chapel of which you will see photos below. Built following the Great War it was created in the Medieval style, and lovingly executed by masters whose heart-felt efforts can be felt in wood and stone: Imagine such an opportunity in the 1920's! 

OF SPECIAL NOTE: I DID see my FIRST FOX on the cold streets of Glasgow,walking to the subway last night. He walked, or rather glided, a few feet in front of our path.

The pulse of a quiet and different world . . . 

University buildings coming from Mairi's apartment

Mairi at the of the entrance of the chapel.

Angel at Pulpit

St Christopher carrying the Christ Child across the water.