All Kinds of Beautiful
They say the best things come in small packages:
Far in the west of Scotland is a very little, yet precious, gem.
Often in the business of my city life, my mind wanders
From the hustle and bustle of a loud city Glasgow away
To precious and humble Barra, often wishing that it was summer time,
So I can get on the ferry once again, and travel back to my Hebridean home.
Kishmul Castle stands strong as ever,
Having faced battles against crashing waves and bitter winds
All of whom fail to defeat her.
Proudly welcoming the Cal Mac ferry as it cruises into Castlebay
As a rightful queen in her stunning kingdom.
But she isn’t the only jewel in the treasure chest.
Over the hills past the wiggly one-car roads lies Borve,
Tucked below the road, her deep blue waves peacefully dance together
Pulling back, releasing out. Building, spiralling upward then plunging back in,
Like Mother Nature is directing the most beautiful ballet your eyes have seen.
The sand beneath your feet is like pillows, that cradle every step,
like a mother does her child, making you feel warm and at home.
In Northbay, the fishermen keep their boats anchored.
Our Lady, Star of the Sea up on the hill,
Watches over them while they work,
Along with Saint Barr of Fishing, his church overlooking them as they depart.
Inside, we too pray for them, their families and their health.
Because, although her waters are in all ways breathtaking,
It is a dangerous place to work.
In Ardmhor, however, the waters are tranquil.
The cockle strand, either a vast swathe covered in sandy shells,
or completely filled with her waters, little waves bobbing up and down.
Tiny Barra planes glide in from the clouds soaring down
Onto the runway like a swan onto a lake.
The only airport where you land on the beach, and what a perfect beach to land on.
Behind the airport and over the sand dunes hides the west sands
A real contrast to Traig Mhor on the other side:
The sand, gorgeous pearl white and soft at our feet,
a small yet beauteous horizon and loud crashing waves spiral in a conch shape
Loud and present, commanding attention.
The strong wind carries the gulls and a little kite, frantically flapping around
Up in the north is Eoligarry beach, a Sandy strip covered in a cyan blanket.
A picture perfect body of water, turquoise which melts into a royal blue in the distance.
Like a pool of diamonds sparkling in the light, hardly any movement except the
Disturbance of a kayak, causing little ripples as they paddle.
A mosaic of crushed shells, blue, purple, pink and orange glistens in the sands.
And best of all the little seals, sticking out their heads and disappearing down again.
The weather changes from
A blue and sunny sky in the morning
To pouring rain in an eyeblink;
Sun, clouds, blue sky and raindrops tossed into a wonderful blender.
Even in showers of rain, the waters are still bonnie,
each drop creating a thousand tiny fountain-like splashes
Like many hands praising god for feeding her fields and keeping her mountains lush.
Barra is a mixture of all kinds of beautiful, each beach, field or mountain
is a snowflake, unique to themselves yet just as sublime as the other.