“It’s so beautiful here,” I told
the man I was staying with on that
island in the North of Scotland.
“What’s beautiful about it?” he
asked, pouring me another dram.
“Everything,” I said. “Just look at
“What view?” he said. “There’s no
view. There’s only mountains and
heather and trees and water.”
When I went back to the city I
looked at it for the first time.
(first published in NorthWords, 1995)
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