The path crosses a small bridge to the backside of the kirk. Butter burr, bramble, nettle. Islands of tarmac raised high and dry from the rain that scours this track. Tottie pebbles roll, slip underfoot while Rheumy gravestones lean, shuffling slowly away across the fields to the sea. Dust lifts, blooms, unsettles a two shilling coin. I pick it up, turn it over and over in my fingers. 1951. Then and now.
artist
dominique cameron 
Another lovely wandering tale – I hope the twa bob coin was heads up for it will lead you to some luckiness āŗļø
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lets hope so …! Ta, Dominique
LikeLike
Gosh – this is very lovely Dominique. I am really enjoying your farm studies. Some of them make me laugh out loud. Are you planning another exhibition with this as the theme? I am back from Australia and have now adjusted to Scottish winter. Fortunately it is not too bad, so far, but we had temperatures of 44 degrees in Australia so you can imagine the bodyshock when I got back. I am glad to say my daughter is feeling much better and the baby is the cutest in the southern hemisphere, we think. Very hard to say goodbye to him and that will only get worse with time. It would be lovely to meetĀ up if you have time. I am now pretty well free of major commitmentsĀ till the end of March, so if you fancied coffee or lunch somewhere, that would be great. Happy to travel to your part of the world. Of course, I would love to talk about more Arthouse workshops, but it would also be great to catch up with you anyway. All the best,Sheila
LikeLiked by 1 person