Northern Soul

Hello and welcome to Friday's contribution to the blog. I will apologise first for the shortness of my piece, but I'm off again on my travels on Friday. Going north again. I turn left when I leave Blackpool, it's the way to freedom , uncongested roads and a relaxing time.

You see my soul is in the north I'm afraid. Despite my husband's insistence that I'm English (for I was born in London and moved to Aberdeen aged 5), I've always felt Scottish. My formative years, education, cultural input and upbringing was Scots. Sorry to say I knew (know?) little of English history and found the teaching of the subject to be rather biased towards the downtrodden and hard done by Scot.

I have a Northern Soul. However, it seems I'm not alone. My father never returned to London preferring to remain in the north: this remains true for many "white settlers". Recently I watched a programme about the most northerly Shetland Isle and many settlers there were not Scottish (in fact Shetland has always felt isolated from the Scottish mainland, being closer to Scandinavia). It seems that many people feel compelled to visit and eventually reside there. When I lived in Buckie we ran holiday accommodation and three couples who visited in various years quickly returned home to sell up and return to the area. Probably the lure of the lifestyle, the scenery, the slower pace of life called to them. They are all still there whilst I found myself 'south of the border' once again. This was because my husband (from Oxford), although he adored the lifestyle, the people and the history, just couldn't put up with the cold weather anymore. So when I have holiday time I always choose to gravitate north, and so it is this coming week....and another week in September.

Something stirs in my Northern Soul...........

The photo is of Loch Leven near Kinlochleven.

THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. ( written circa 1966)

They dance, like heavenly ballerinas:

They prance, like skipping children.

The colours change from red to green,

Oh! They are a wonderful sight to be seen.

They are the reflection of the cold waste.

They are the perfection of poise and grace.

The heavens suddenly give way

To a brilliance - such heavenly array.

They give a feeling of emptiness,

You feel like kneeling at their greatness.

Up there they regard us with eyes

That are not real. Just images in the sky.

They flit like swallows across the sky

Their long tails trailing behind them.

Come light they are gone away

And you may not see them another day.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thanks for reading....................Kath