Sheila Smith / The hunter home from the hill

We have been blessed by cloudless blue skies and autumn sunshine since we arrived in Knoydart. Settled weather for the unsettling process. Today has been a day of highs and lows, lightness and darkness; the beauty of the place and our various expressions of fragility; the warmth of the sun and the emotional shadowplay.  Round the campfire, sprawled on the beach, and from our hard won positions on the hillside: checking in, making meaning, being heard, embracing silence. And Knoydart, impassive, unchanging witness to both the low vibrational peace generated by our short solo experience and the strident jubilation of the hunting horn. And the hunters home from the hill.