Geography and Geology were never my strong points and I didn’t
carry the subjects any further than 3rd Year high school, so forgive
my ignorance in only just discovering that there are five basic kinds of
mountains. I’ve been looking on a
Primary Homework Help website and read about Fold, Fault-Block, Dome, Volcanic
and Plateau mountains, formed when slabs of the earth’s crust crashed into each
other. It’s never too late to learn and I’m developing an interest.
When visiting the Scottish Highlands, I’ve looked forward to
the drive through Glen Coe, in anticipation of seeing Ben Nevis. So far, I’ve
been denied this treat as anything taller than the roof of the car has been
shrouded by Scotch Mist. I believe the area is beautiful and I hope for a clear
day when we head out that way in the summer, though I’ve seen a translation for
the meaning of ‘Ben Nevis’ which is ‘head in the clouds’. In case you’re wondering, Ben Nevis and the
mountains surrounding Glen Coe are volcanic.
Ben Nevis is not the only mountain to hide from me. Very
many years ago, I was based near Grindelwald for a week on the Bernese Oberland
trail in Switzerland and never got to see the top of the Eiger as it was
constantly obscured by cloud. The film ‘The Eiger Sanction’ was still popular
and boosted tourist trade, not that a boost was needed. An excursion to go sightseeing
in the Bernese Alps was cut short due to heavy snow and this was late Spring.
We took our daughter and her friend to North Wales on
holiday when they were both just teenagers.
We were all looking forward to a day out in Snowdonia, especially the
mountain railway to the summit of Mount Snowdon which we could all enjoy. We
would be on top of the world. It was not to be. The train track was being
upgraded or repaired and was out of action. The climb was not suitable for all
of us so we chose something else. The
adventurous ones had lots of fun riding the cable cars up and down the Great
Orme to Llandudno.
Yon
Wild Mossy Mountains
That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde,
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed.
Not Gowrie's rich valley, nor Forth's sunny shores,
To me hae the charms o'yon wild, mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely, sequestered stream,
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.
Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path,
Ilk stream foaming down its ain green, narrow strath;
For there, wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove,
While o'er us unheeded flie the swift hours o'love.
She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair;
O' nice education but sma' is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me.
To Beauty what man but maun yield him a prize,
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
They dazzle our een, as they flie to our hearts.
But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond-sparkling e'e,
Has lustre outshining the diamond to me;
And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!
2 comments:
This was interesting, Pam. I remember climbing Ben Nevis and Snowdon as a teenager - one in pouring rain and the other in swirling mist - so minimal visibility at the top each time.
The Robbie Burns lyric should read "Resides a sweet lassie" (v2 l4) ;-)
Did you catch the recent debate that suggested Robbie was more a collector and collator of existing Scottish songs and verse than a true originator? His fan club is not happy.
I'm so sorry. That serves me right for copy and pasting. I think the recent remarks about Burns' work might have been taken out of context. I have a 1994 edition of Burns collected poems. In the introduction there is a paragraph about his work as editor on James Johnson's Scots Musical Museum where he was 'collecting and collating old songs as well as writing over 200 of his own to old airs in order that the tunes could be kept alive.' Good on him, and thanks for doing it, I say.
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