Standing Stones

Sorry, that was not it for Scotland after all. This week I was listening to my iPod coming home from work one day and Loreena McKennitt came on the shuffle setting. I was introduced to McKennitt the first year of my undergrad – approximately twenty years ago. It was my RC in my first year of residence at Acadia that made me listen to Anachie Gordon on her Parallel Dreams album and I was hooked.

I have almost all her albums. Two of her CDs have actually worn out and don’t play well anymore so I need to replenish my stock. I hadn’t listened to her in a while, but I quickly found my way back to her when Standing Stones (also from Parallel Dreams) played on my IPod. I suddenly realized McKennitt was referencing the standing stones on the Orkney Islands I saw with Mom last Fall. And of course the song took on an entirely different meaning for me with the visuals in cue.

In one of these lonely Orkney Isles
There dwelled a maiden fair
Her cheeks were red, her eyes were blue
She had yellow, curling hair

Which caught the eye and then the heart
Of one who could never be
A lover of so true a maid
Or fair a form as she

Across the lake in Sandwick
Dwelled a youth she held most true
And ever since her infancy
He had watched those eyes so blue.

The land runs out into the sea
It's a narrow neck of land
Where weird and grim the Standing Stones
In a circle there they stand.

One bonny moonlit Christmas Eve
They met at that sad place
With her heart in glee and the beams of love
Were shining on her face
When her lover came and he grasped her hand
And what loving words they said
They talked of future's happy days
As through the stones they strayed.

They walked toward the lovers' stone
And through it passed their hands
They plighted there a constant troth
Sealed by love's steadfast bands
He kissed his maid and then he watched her
That lonely bridge go o'er
For little, little did he think
He wouldn't see his darling more.

Chorus:
Standing stones of the Orkney Isles
Gazing out to sea
Standing stones of the Orkney Isles
Bring my love to me

He turned his face toward his home
That home he did never see
And you shall have the story
As it was told to me
When a form upon him sprang
With a dagger gleaming bright
It pierced his heart and his dying screams
Disturbed the silent night.

This maid had nearly reached her home
When she was startled by a cry
And she turned to look around her
And her love was standing by
His hand was pointing to the stars
And his eyes glazed at the light
And with a smiling countenance
He vanished from her sight.

She quickly turned and home she ran
Not a word of this was said
For well she know at seeing his form
That her faithful love was dead
And from that day she pined away
Not a smile seen on her face
And with outstretched arms she went to meet him
In a brighter place.

Romance and tragedy played out amongst ancient standing stones.  How can that not be infectious?

 

Perhaps my most favourite of all her adaptations is her version of Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott. One of my favourites *forever*:

Down she came and found a boat

Beneath a willow left afloat

And round about the prow she wrote

The Lady of Shallot.

And the beautiful and haunting Dante’s Prayer:

When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me

It is poetry to music. Enjoy this Canadian treasure.

Transforming

I cannot believe that God has programmed any of us for failure. He wants your life and mine to be the fullest, richest experience that it can possibly be. Get hold of that idea and let it transform your living. Go out and face the daily challenge with the firm conviction that God is there. Then the effort is no longer drudgery; it’s a privilege. It’s a kind of victory of its own.


Father Joe Rossiter
April 9, 1989

Orkney

When I lived in Scotland in the early nineties, I shared a student flat with a fellow Canuck, an American, and three girls from France – yes, a six-bedroom flat! At some point during that year, the gals from France did a road trip and I recall them sending us a post card from the Orkney Islands. From that point on, the Islands were on my radar. I also made a backpacking trip around Scotland with a friend from Spain after the school year finished, but I didn’t have enough money to make it to Orkney. I got as far north as Helmsdale when I ran out of funds.

So this time around, I wanted to include Orkney in my Scotland itinerary. Mom and I met our mini-bus on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh and after a few stops, we caught the ferry at John o’ Groats at the very northern tip of mainland Scotland.

It was a relatively short ferry ride on a relatively small ferry. We were lucky with a beautiful calm crossing as I’ve heard it is often quite rocky. We even saw dolphins. I was falling asleep in my chair when Mom nudged me and said “Juanita, what are those things swimming in the water?” It was an unexpected treat – one I’ve never experienced on all the other ferry crossings I’ve undertaken in my life.

I really wasn’t sure what to expect in Orkney. I will admit that there is somewhat of a romantic appeal visiting such removed Islands. And this place in particular has so many pre-historic, stone-age and Druid settlement remains that it made it all the more intriguing. I’ve always loved ancient history since I first took it in grade ten. But before we got to visit these various sites, I was first intrigued at how fertile and green the Islands are. It didn’t take very long to determine that in addition to tourism, agriculture plays a vital role in the Island’s economy.

Before heading to our B&B in Kirkwall, we made a stop at the small chapel located close to the ferry depot. Known as the Italian Chapel, it is one of the few structures on the uninhabited Lamb Holm Island. Built by 550 Italian prisoners of war captured in North Africa during World War II, the Chapel was constructed with limited materials. One Italian POW stayed on the island to finish the chapel, even when the other prisoners were released shortly before the end of the war. Both the exterior and interior of the Chapel are so quaint. And it is touching to see something so inspiring come out of something so negative.

Mom and I both loved our B&B in Kirkwall. It was removed from the city centre and located by the water. The lady that ran the B&B was wonderful. I looked forward to talking with her every morning while eating our breakfast. She explained how the educational structure operated for the Islands, the mentality of the locals, the effect of finding oil in the nearby North Sea. She was a fountain of information and her facility was the nicest B&B we stayed at. She showed us her traditional “Orkney Chair” – a gift from her parents when she turned eighteen. These straw-backed chairs are so quaint – and incredibly expensive! But a lovely local tradition nonetheless. Here's Mom outside our B&B and the Orkney Chair:

That first night we went into Kirkwall for supper. It was here Mom managed to fall into a pub. She missed a step down into the pub and all I saw where legs and arms flailing in front of me. She gave me a scare as she could easily have broken various parts of her body. But within a milli-second of pulling the triple sow cow, she leaned against a table and said very calmly, “Here’s a free table.” I looked at her and said, “Really? You are going to pretend that didn’t just happen?” Then we went crazy. We laughed, and laughed and laughed. Then we’d think about it and go crazy all over again. Everyone in the pub looked at us like we were growing antlers. This only made us laugh more. Before heading back to the B&B, Mom called home from a pay phone by the harbor, and this is the view I had while she chatted with Peter:

The Standing Stones of Stenness was our first stop of pre-historic Orkney. There are only three and a half stones left of twelve that would have once formed a complete circle. It is hard to describe how incredibly massive these stones are – 16ft high. The way to indicate the scale is to include people in a photo standing beside the stones.

One amusing story associated with the site concerns a farmer who owned the property in the early 19^th century. Disgruntled that people were trespassing and disturbing his land by using the stones in rituals, he began removing the stones. He had successfully removed three before locals intervened.

The Ring of Brodgar was our next stone circle located only a few kilometers away. The northernmost example of circle henges in Britain, it is also the third largest in the British Isles. Originally comprised 60 stones, only 27 remained standing at the end of the 20th century. Located on an isthmus, the backdrop for the Ring of Brodgar is incredibly scenic. Mom and I loved walking around the stones with the lovely view of the water.

Skara Brae was next. I had seen pictures of it and had read about it. Considered the most important settlement on Neolithic Orkney, this site is also located right on the water on the Bay of Skaill. The site consists of eight stone houses and is Europe's most complete Neolithic village Europe's. What astounded me is that the site has been dated older than Stonehenge and the Pyramids. Documentation we received at the site states it has been called the "Scottish Pompeii" because of its excellent preservation. What is intriguing about this site is that occupation of Skara Brae began about 3180 BCE with occupation continuing for about six hundred years – then the people left and it is not known why. Many theories exist, but the mystery remains as to why the settlement was abandoned.

The Broch of Gurness was the last settlement we toured. What I loved about this site is that we could actually go into the Broch and walk inside it – unlike Skara Brae. Like the other settlements, however, this Iron Age Broch village overlooks water - Eynhallow Sound. It was so windy and cold, we appreciated the refuge inside its walls.

We stopped many times along the roadside for the seemingly endless photo ops. One of my favorite spots was a simple rocky seaside rest stop. The wind was so incredible, I was actually a little scared to go anywhere remotely near the cliff edge. One photo of Mom and I show how exactly how windy it was. Not a complementary photo by any means, it actually looks like we had the scare of our lives, but it is just too funny not to include here.

Mom with our collection of Orkney seashells.

That’s it for Scotland. I have recently realized that I have seen more of Scotland than any other country in the world. Something keeps pulling me back. The country is so majestic and the people are so charming. It is part of my ancestry. And it is part of my own individual story. There are still a few places I want to see and am hoping to make one last journey back some day. For now, however, my Mom and I have begun making tentative plans for our next journey. And it can’t come soon enough!