Wintering at the farthest reaches
of Scotland this year.
What a blessing to find footing
between loch and sea,
on a faraway tidal island,
wrapped in kelp ribbons.
There’s not much else beyond here.
The light is already shifting North.
I might even miss
the tenderness
of lingering nights
reluctant to leave the morning.
To begin and to end,
to rise and to bend
with the rough grace of wind.
May this season breathe
the right thing into our bones. 🎄
Dec 25, 2025
Dec 25, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
Wintering at the farthest reaches
of Scotland this year.
What a blessing to find footing
between loch and sea,
on a faraway tidal island,
wrapped in kelp ribbons.
There’s not much else beyond here.
The light is already shifting North.
I might even miss
the tenderness
of lingering nights
reluctant to leave the morning.
To begin and to end,
to rise and to bend
with the rough grace of wind.
May this season breathe
the right thing into our bones. 🎄