Wednesday 21 November

A pretty bright day today, but we certainly have got the wind back. Blowing force 6 to 7 through most of the day. I was left gobsmacked by the images of flooding in England, where 2 inches (50 mm) of rain has fallen in places. More of the same in days to come. Our rain lasted just an hour and a half. That's the advantage of being this far north, any weathersystems tend to scoot past at a rate of knots.

I have been revising the information on one of my Western Isles tribute sites, namely for the Isle of Harris. Harris is on the same landmass as Lewis. Anyway, the Commonwealth War Graves Commission have recently introduced a vastly improved search function ont heir website, meaning I can search for certain keywords, like "Harris", "Tarbert" or "Inverness-shire". You can download those search-results into spreadsheet data and work them on your own PC. Very nifty, and I have managed to locate data for 24 persons. 65 (out of 200) remain without any more information than is on the war memorial at Tarbert. As I haven't been to Harris in a while, I'll close this post with a handful of piccies of Na Hearadh, as the island is known in Gaelic. The first image is of the war memorial at Tarbert, the main village and ferry port for the ferry to Skye and the mainland.

Tuesday 20 November

We started off grey but dry, with very little wind. That all changed at 11 in the morning, when the rain started to pour and the wind got up. By lunchtime, the sun came out and the wind rose to a near-gale, force 7. Yes, the barometer was way down as well, and is only rising slowly.





Fortunately, Stornoway looked very nice in the afternoon when the sun shone on South Beach, as shown above.

I was slightly amazed that the Church of England voted against female bishops. I was amazed at the emotional response, shown by the (female) reporter on ITV news, who (I felt) went way over the top in her condemnation of the CoE, describing it as not of this age &c. She should bear in mind that the Anglican Church does not just hold sway in England, but also has large congregations outside the country, some of whom are very conservative. However, it is a typical case of how shall we interpret the Scriptures to our own ends, and I have this funny feeling that 'Him upstairs' will have cast his Eyes upwards as one of his churches is heading for more schisms.

I'm patiently waiting for the hot-heads in the Middle East to cool down and reach a cease-fire, and hopefully a permanent solution. After 65 years of crap, I think it's high time. Israel is here to stay, the people who used to live in Palestine before the Israelis came, are also here to stay, so why not sit down for a chat? I acknowledge the hatred that all this crap has caused, and which will not go away in a hurry. As the people in Iraq have shown, it is perfectly feasible for the idiots to be kicked out, if the will for peace is there. And I genuinely believe that it is there. On both sides.

Monday 19 November

A very dark, grey, overcast and wet day. After the cold weather of the last few days, it was pleasant to find it had got quite a bit milder, with the mercury in double figures. The rain, which locally amounted to 2/3 inches (17 mm), caused havoc in Perthshire, with the village of Comrie (between Perth and Crieff) awash under several inches if not feet of water. Three months ago, the village had suffered flooding as well and had nowhere near recovered from that. The next couple of days will see more active weatherfronts and rain moving through.

In a way, it was good that the army major, in charge of the boattrip that left young Kaylee Macintosh dead, back in 2007, was sentenced to a fine of £5,000 ($8k). Since '07, the law on breaches of health & safety has been altered, meaning that in severe cases like this, people can be sent to prison. Other people may be prosecuted as well, as many aspects of the whole trip were found to be faulty. Kaylee, who was 14, was one of a party of several teenagers who were in a fast boat in Loch Carnan, South Uist, in August 2007, when the craft overturned during bad weather. No headcount was taken, and it took an hour and a half for Kaylee to be recovered from under the upturned boat, dead by that time.

Stornoway is not a place that shies away from a drink, so it was even more surprising to read that one of its pubs has closed down. Others have diversified into providing food. The reasons quoted are a decrease in disposable income in the island, cheap booze in supermarkets (which people will consume at home). I mean, if you can get 6 pints for £3 in the supermarket, and get charged £3 for 1 pint in a pub, I can very well understand why people make that choice.

Sunday 18 November

Today was not unlike yesterday, with good sunny spells interspersed with showers, some wintry - not surprising with a daytime max of just 6C / 43F. Dedicated today to some reading, with my first e-book (read through Kindle for PC), Inner Legacy by Douglas Stuart. As I wrote in my review, it took a bit of getting into, but flowed well for the rest of its 300+ pages. The number of pages on an ebook is in fact irrelevant, as that changes with the typeface and fontsize you select for reading the text. It worked well on my laptop, in spite of its continuing problems with warped colours.

As you will have seen on Writings from Castle Town, I have completed another two writings today. These tend to be based on my own observations and interpretations of local areas, histories and scenes. Two of them will be submitted to a local writing competition; just a bit of fun. I continue to get favourable feedback, so I feel emboldened to enter.

I hope they manage to get themselves a ceasefire in the Middle East before the situation in Gaza and Israel flies out of control, which it could ever so easily do. Both sides are at fault, and neither is right in what they are doing.

Saturday 17 November

Quite cold today, with the mercury struggling to reach 5C / 41F in the afternoon. With the sun now setting at 4 o'clock, the days are getting very short. Just over five weeks until the winter solstice now. It only seems like yesterday that I was out at 11.30pm, photographing the town as daylight was only just beginning to give way to night. This week has seen a good display of the aurora borealis; as I am located on the south side of Stornoway (i.e. with a townful of light to the north) I have not been able to see them, but contacts in Ness and Coll (25 and 7 miles outside Stornoway) assure me that it has been good.

I despair at the on-going stupidity in the Middle East, where the Israelis and Palestinians continue not to realise that they are condemned to live with each other, whether they like it or not. Rather than make each others' life hell, why don't they sit down for some quiet talk, and shove all the noxious influences from outside into the sea?

Friday 16 November

Overcast today, with some outbreaks of rain as we transition to a colder frame of weather. Wintry showers are possible over the weekend as we dip down towards the 40F mark on the thermometer. I discovered that my walking boots (which I wear every day) have worn away and are about to give up the ghost. I therefore went into some of the local outdoor shops, but they had nothing that fitted my feet. This would ordinarily mean a trip to Inverness, 100 miles and £34 away - but if I can get a repeat order of the same boots, that would make it all a bit easier.

I reported yesterday about the Facebook contact who had suffered sexual abuse at the hands of Dave Lee Travis. Reading the first-hand account makes you sick to the core - even if it happened 30 years ago. I cannot profess to know the person concerned very well, but that's beside the point. And DLT expressing himself precisely the way an abuser would: 'you are worth nothing' - well, that sunk him for good.

Poetry

I have copied my poetic writings onto a separate blogsite, Writings from Castle Town and after today, will blog the poetry there. Those who follow my writings on Facebook will see a feed from that blog on my wall. I am contemplating whether to publish these in book form, but have not yet decided.

Castle Town is a username I adopted on Blipfoto, a site where you can post one photograph each day, something I have been doing for the past 3 years. Castle Town refers to Lews Castle in Stornoway, and to the castle in my home town in the Netherlands. Pictures from both castles are featured in the Writings blog. 

Barvas

A line of four hills
on the southern horizon
The endless sea
stretching out north

The old land falls
from the cliff edge
to its ruins
the sea toys with the stack below

A single line of houses
along the edge of the loch
another line marching
on the opposing skyline

The moorland waters drain off
to rest for a while
in the shallow waters
before merging with the ocean

Ever moving
never still
motion born
of long dead storms

Trains of white riders
charging the shore
A bullying wind
batters the cowering homesteads

Stretching uphill
to end at the church
views opening out
west along the coast

Like so many places
in these old islands
it's given up its people
to seek riches abroad

Or pledge fielty unto death
For a distant king
The village awaits
The return of the departed

Whether in this life
or in the one beyond
At the setting of the sun
Or at the Breaking of the Day

Pentland Road

A ribbon of black
threads across
the trackless moor
hugging contours

Distant hills
looming either side
blue pieces of glass
reflecting the high sky

Dark blankets roll away
in green, yellow, brown
and black to the horizon
waiting to be cut for fuel

The road forks
where rocky hillocks crop out
angling down along the riverbank
and coming to end at the pierhead

Thursday 15 November

Today in 2004, I first arrived in Stornoway, and in due course made the place my pied-a-terre. I started off staying at the Ravenspoint Centre in Kershader, 22 miles (by road) south of Stornoway, before relocating to the town proper a number of weeks later. I arrived in Stornoway from Berneray, in the Sound of Harris, after a lengthy tour of northern Scotland.


Berneray, 1996


Kershader, 2008

I was shocked to hear of the arrest today of Dave Lee Travis, until 1993 a famed DJ on BBC radio; I first heard of him on the BBC World Service, which he dubbed the BBC's Wild Service. I found that funny; until today. One of my Facebook contacts has lodged a police complaint against Mr Travis for alleged sexual abuse 30 years ago.

Today was a day of sunshine and cloudscapes and quite a bit of wind. The wind blew the remaining dry leaves around, causing a visiting cat to jump up in the air on all fours and trying to chase them. After dark, the cloud increased and there was a brief spell of rain - the wind has now died down.

Alcohol in pregnancy

One of today's headlines is the news that drinking one or two glasses of wine per week whilst pregnant increases the risk of lowering the IQ of the baby. This was also carried in the regional paper for the north of Scotland, the Press and Journal. The closing lines of the P&J article run as follows:

Dr Simon Newell, from the Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health, said: "We already know that an estimated 6,000 babies a year in the UK are born with problems as a result of heavy alcohol consumption by their mothers while pregnant. It is impossible to say what constitutes a "safe" amount of alcohol, so our advice is don't take the chance with your baby's health - don't drink at all".

The P&J adds an editorial which runs as follows:

So researchers are now telling pregnant women that having a glass of wine once a week could reduce their child's IQ. The difficulty with research, of course, is that much of it is intelligent supposition based on, by its very nature, limited findings. It creates confusion and mixed messages, but most women are far too sensible to be swayed by these kinds of messages anyway. We know the dangers drink can have and ultimately know that a little glass of wine now and again won't kill us. Often our bodies are the best guide one can have, not a researcher with a message to sell.

I wonder who is right...

Wednesday 14 November

Quite a reasonable day, with good spells of sunshine and the odd drop of rain - which I managed to avoid. I went for a walk to Strawberry Hill this afternoon, and discovered that this area of the Castle Grounds is not as difficult to get to as I had thought. My first foray, in February of last year, involved scaling the southern flank of the hill (220 feet high), and last summer I tackled the hill from the north. It was at that point that I discovered the tracks leading off Strawberry Hill to the east, and I discovered an even better (if rather rough) track a little way further south. These tracks lead to the Marybank Quarry, an area that is obviously out of bounds. It being mid afternoon, the sun was setting (sunset time 4pm at the moment), leading to some nice cloud and lightscapes.

I have collected my poetry on http://castletown-writings.blogspot.com/, but will continue to copy it on here as well.

Sunset

Golden rays caress the sky
languid clouds
slowly moving east
an ever-changing mosaic

A cooling breeze
gently touches
the hilltop, slowly turning
brown as autumn progresses

Greens of leaves
makes way for the
grey of denuded
treebranches

Greens of grasses
turn yellow then
fade into the
background of blackened heath

The wind reminisces
as the sun bids us good night
angling its rays ever higher
airbrushing the sky pink

Slowly, colour fades
from the skye, the hills
the sea
Night has fallen

Tuesday 13 November

A bit milder than in recent times, as we manage double figures. It was a day of changeable fortunes, but with some nice spells of sunshine. November is set to continue in much the same fashion over the next few days. No complaints this end.

Fuel prices remain at the forefront of local politics. A pump, only a few hundred yards from my position, has dropped its prices by about 10p a litre since the wholesalers announced that island retailers could buy where they wanted; previously, they had been locked into five-year contracts, which attracted the ire of local residents. I do not drive myself, but when I go on the bus, the fuel prices do affect me indirectly, through fare increases.

82 years after being abandoned by its permanent residents, St Kilda has attracted an award for conservation of architectural heritage. The houses in Village Street quicly fell into disrepair, but were restored later. In spite of its stunning landscapes, St Kilda does not hold much attraction for me, as I hold it to be dead.

Tides

Low tide
The bar stretches
across the entrance to the basin
a rapid outflow the sole break

An old engine
now just a lump of rust
with a few floats
attached

Dirty mud with stones
seaweed
empty shells
gulls squawking

A squirt of water
scallops
other inhabited shells
try not to stand out

Six hours later
Only water
All else aforementioned?
Under 17 feet of water

Journalistic accountability

As we (in the UK) know by now, there have been major changes in personnel at the BBC. This was brought about because the Newsnight programme did not do proper journalistic checks before broadcasting a programme that appears to have been defamatory.

Well, of course when you're a journalist, you have to check and countercheck. However, why didn't that numbskull Philip Schofield, of ITV1 fame, not do his checks on the card with names that he handed David Cameron the other day? More to the point, what is he still doing on that featherweight This morning programme? Names were (allegedly) legible on the card for a second, as it was passed by Schofield to the prime minister. These names were culled off the Internet, where rumours were flying aplenty about the name of the former Tory aide who is alleged to have abused boys at (or from) the Bryn Estyn home at Wrexham, North Wales. Off the Internet, the greatest rumour box on earth? If heads are rolling at the BBC, then we should also see (metaphorically speaking) the heads of Philip Schofield (and his team at This morning) impaled on the gates of ITV HQ.

Heron

Along the water's edge
Stepping on tall legs
Looking for
a meal

in

the

water

SNAP!

Lazily, the heron
flies off to its
nest
in the treetops

Monday 12 November

Overcast, wet and initially windy. However, the wind has died down now. I finished reading a book that tried to depict Britain under Nazi occupation during the Second World War. That, of course, complete conjecture and the author, Norman Longmate, has made a creditable effort to describe the invasion and its aftermath. What I found fault with is the relative understatement of the atrocities committed by Nazi forces in occupied Europe, which the author tip-toed past. He laid heavy emphasis on the occupation of the Channel Islands, the only British territory to be occupied by Hitler's forces. However, that occupation appears to have been relatively benign, and not representative of the occupation of other countries, like France, Holland or Belgium.

I have started on the phenomenon of e-books, and purchased a novel, written by a fellow blogger, Stuart Rogerson. Another book I currently have on the go, Crime and Punishment, by Dostoevsky.

Did you ask about hurricanes? None about, and only one tropical disturbance, near Brunei, which is not likely to develop much further.

Religion

I recently finished, after a year, reading the Qu'ran, the holy text of Islam. Due to the sensitive nature of the subject in hand, I decided not to write a review on Goodreads.com, but will do so nonetheless on this relatively obscure corner of my internet output. The Qu'ran is vastly different from the Bible, being a series of revelations to a Prophet, transmitted through the Angel Gabriel from God. The Bible is a collection of scripts, which were written by many different hands, in different languages at different times, over a period of four to five thousand years.

The translation I read served to make the book accessible to me, also highlighting the many areas that Christianity and Islam have in common. However, there are also one or two statements that render the two religions incompatible. Islam states that God does not have a son - although it does acknowledge Jesus as a prophet (note lowercase). The Holy Trinity is a cornerstone of Christianity, I need not remind you. However, the Qu'ran also says, through the Prophet, that "God gave man the Torah, and he did not listen. God gave man the Gospel, and he did not listen. God gave man the Qu'ran, and he did not listen". In other words, in my opinion, Islam is the younger brother of Christianity, and a very vocal one at that.

I am profoundly saddened that, like Christianity, Islam has been hijacked for political ends, and used as justification for mass murder. I do not read or understand Arabic, but appreciate and acknowledge the  vast cultural heritage that the Arabian peninsula has to offer - do not forget that it was Arab scholars that invented the concept of the zero, without which we would not have the computers we are all working on today.

I shall reread the Qu'ran in the future, because it is a huge work with a huge impact that you cannot appreciate from just one reading. I shall also reread the Bible, in order to reacquaint myself with the Scriptures from that Book.

BBC

After a monumental failure in editorial control at Newsnight, the Director General of the BBC, George Entwistle, finally did what he should have done some time ago: resign. I am outraged to hear he is given a year's pay upon departure, "because he is helping with the Jimmy Savile case". Entwistle was torn to shreds by, first, the Culture Media and Sports Committee of Parliament, and last week by John Humphrys on BBC Radio 4. The man is plainly incompetent out of his ivory tower, and Mr Entwistle should be out of the BBC altogether, not be permitted to finish what he started off bungling in the first place. I am disgusted with Chris Patten, chairman of the BBC Trust, who stands up for the former DG because he's such a nice guy. Yes, I'm sure I'd be happy to buy George a pint down the pub myself, but this old-boys network should not come into a management structure. If that persists, Chris Patten himself should resign. It is symptomatic of a culture where malpractice is covered with the mantle of fraternal love and "he is such a nice guy". That is precisely the sort of attitude that allowed Jimmy Savile to abuse women and children between 1958 and 2011. Nobody would say anything about Jimmy, because he was such a good guy, and, well, we all know Jimmy, and didn't you enjoy it??

I have previously stated on this blog that I am a supporter of the BBC, and have been for nearly 30 years. The organisation has a high standard of journalism, but nobody is perfect, and things go wrong, even in the best-run enterprises. The test is how malpractice is being dealt with - and there have been two serious instances at the BBC where malpractice was uncovered, and it was not dealt with properly. The BBC is not a private enterprise, the broadcaster is (partly) funded by license fee money, paid by viewers in the UK - £150 per annum.

Autumn day

Rivers running down the glass
Distorting the view outside
A rapid patter of drops
and an impatient buffeting by wind

Visibility quite poor
but there isn't much to see
today is an autumnal day
as chill makes way for mild

Darkness falls near four fifteen
and daylight's getting very short
Six weeks left till solstice day
and we'll hunker down some more

Bowed down into the wind
Minimising time outside
warmed by a cosy fire
ignoring mother nature's ill temper

Remembrance Sunday (II)

They gather round
under clearing skies
remembering those
gone on ahead

Through war and strife
the trumpet sounds
and all fall silent
to contemplate

The sun comes out
and the trumpet calls
Awake!
A  new day dawns

The wreaths remain
We will remember
Their today
For our tomorrow

War memorials

For an island of about 20,000 inhabitants, Lewis has a surprising number of war memorials, sixteen. The largest is situated just outside Stornoway and consists of a tower, with a circle of 23 plaques below. They used to be in the tower, but that is severely affected by ingress of water, so they were placed outside.


Other locations are

Garrabost (Point)


Braighe na h-Aoidhe & Melbost


Back


North Tolsta


Cross (Ness)


Borve


Bragar


Carloway
 

Tolsta Chaolais


Breasclete


Great Bernera


Timsgarry (Uig)


Crossbost


Laxay (Kinloch)


Kershader (South Lochs)

Sunday 11 November

Remembrance Sunday today. I watched the parade in Whitehall in London at 11 am, then walked the 40 minutes to the local war memorail for a ceremony at 1pm. The shortest route on foot leads through the local golf course. There were about 150 people present at the war memorial. The minister of one of the local churches conducted proceedings, which included the laying of wreaths by military and civilian dignitaries. After the singing of hymns and psalms, the national anthem closed the ceremony at half past one. I returned through a practically deserted town centre. It was a chilly day, but the threat of showers receded and the sun even came out. As I type this, at 7pm, we are not far above freezing.


The below pic shows the crowds gathering at the memorial.

Lewis War Memorial

Twenty-three plaques
More than fiteen hundred names
Standing in a circle
Below a prominent tower

Looking out over the town
Over the Minch
which they all had to cross
but never to return

Looking out over the island
At the villages near and far
From where they flocked
Eagerly but with hidden trepidation

In a circle near the top
their names are remembered
Parish by parish
In each World War

On land, in France or Mesopotamia
Out at sea, in the Atlantic or in the Mediterranean
In the skies over Britain and Europe
or even further from home

But closest to home
Within view of the tower now
The two hundred who drowned
at Holm Point, as 1919 started

Twenty-three plaques
More than fifteen hundred names
Remembered by theirs
Remembered by us all

Saturday 10 November

Quite a reasonable day, with showerclouds in abundance, but not much rain falling. The result was the inevitable mix of cloudscapes and rainbows. We maintained a reasonable temperature of 9C, and while the barometer rose, the showers started to peter out.

I could not help but notice that the leaves on the fuchsia bush are turning yellow. Not something that merits the news headlines, but in previous years, the gales had blown both blooms and leaves off by now. Not this year. We have had very few days with high winds this year, and (likewise in the Castle Grounds) has allowed mother nature to put up a fine display of autumn colours.

I have made a good start with my two new books. The first one, If Britain had fallen, gives a chilling account of what might have happened if the Germans had mounted a successful invasion. I'm about 1/3 of the way through, and I'm blessing my stars that this never came to be. The second one, Crime and punishment, is a very wordy but intriguing novel by Russian writer Dostoevsky, and the first twists and turns are already appearing - I'm on page 37 (of nearly 500).

Want a mince pie? Sorry, they've all been eaten :-)

Calum Zachary

Hey, where are you?
Need a word, real quick
You and I, well, what do you say?
Be together for good

But listen, we're poor
Can't get any land
Your folks have so little
splitting it would leave even less

Don't get me wrong, though
I'll be yours alright
We are as one
And will always be

Look, come look, who's that?
He's here for the money
What my dad hasn't got
Hasn't had for so long

Hey, where are you?
Got some news, bad and good
We've got to leave the island
Dad's been turned off his land

Come with me tonight
Nothing left here for us
We'll start a new life together
Take our chance, wherever

They were to meet on the pierhead
To start afresh somewhere
The moon set early though
and darkness shrouded all

He could not find his lady
She could not find her man
He therefore went to America
without his love by his side

His name was Calum Zachary
A name living on in song
echoing his loss
across the waves and years

Friday 9 November

After last night's wind and rain, the day dawned fairly brightly, but with intermittent heavy showers. The temperature was no great shakes either, managing 9C / 48F, achieved soon after midday. The afternoon only got colder.

My heart bled when I heard the terrible privations having to be endured by Anders Breivik as he continues his 21-year sentence (mininum) for the murder of 78 people in Norway last year. At least he has a comfy prison cell for the rest of his life; his victims' lives were cut short by him. I hope he is now deprived of the oxygen of any further publicity.

St Kilda has been awarded an international award for preserving architecture. The group of islands, 45 miles west of North Uist, was abandoned by its permanent residents in August 1930. The houses were restored by the National Trust for Scotland, and the main island is home to a tracking station for test missiles, fired from a range in South Uist. The St Kilda Centre, which is due to be constructed at Mangersta in Lewis is yet to be put up.

To Canada

The man walked down the road
his knapsack slung over his shoulder
although he had gained some land
he had lost his neighbours

There had been only one way out
to Canada
Cutting down trees
building the Pacific railway

Gratitude had led to this separation
for the man left his family behind
sending back money
that he had earned over there

His neighbours were behind with the rent
And as he had saved the proprietor's life
The reward was a piece of land
taken off his neighbours' croft

The man did not ask for a reward
even less for more land
however useful
And certainly not at the expense of his neighbour

So he walked down the road
His family staring after him
As he disappeared in the distance
Never to return

Death of army cadet

Five years ago, in August 2007, an army cadet from Fyvie, Aberdeenshire, drowned following an accident in Loch Carnan, South Uist. Kaylee Macintosh had become trapped under a RIB after it overturned, and her absence had not been noticed for 90 minutes. When the boat was finally turned over, the cadet was found drowned underneath.

It is reported today that the officer in charge, Major George Maccallum, has admitted at Inverness Sheriff Court charges on health and safety issues at the time.

Kristallnacht

9 November 1938 - an organised mob of Nazi forces and sympathisers go on the rampage in towns and cities across Germany, smashing and destroying Jewish-owned property and businesses. It was to be a marker, to what was to come during World War II - the extermination of anyone deemed sub-human by the warped mind of Adolf Hitler and his henchmen. Jews topped their league of the unfit, closely followed by gypsies, the mentally ill and many many others. The Reichskristallnacht was a night of infamy, and not just to Germany.

For Hitler was allowed to get away with literally murder for several years beforehand. In 1936, he occupied the Rhineland which had been ceded to France at the end of the First World War. The League of Nations, a toothless talkingshop, cried wolf but had no bite. In March 1938, Nazi forces marched into Austria to join that country to Germany, an event referred to as the Anschluss. Neville Chamberlain flew to Munich to meet with Adolf Hitler on 30 September 1938, returning with the infamous phrase: "Peace for our time". Six weeks later, the Reichskristallnacht took place, a sign of ill omen. Only a few months later, Germany invaded the Sudetenland area of Czecho-Slovakia, and again, nobody moved a finger to stop. In September 1939, Hitler thought he could get away with the invasion of Poland. But instead, it prompted the outbreak of the Second World War.

The lights have gone out in Europe, it was said at the time. The lights in Europe were extinguished in 1914, and had not been relit, not even at the end of the First World War. The Versailles Peace Treaty of June 1919 contained all the ingredients for another war, which duly materialised.

9 November

Light fills the room
refracted by hundreds of
finely cut crystals
hanging from the chandelier

A fire demurely crackles
in the hearth
filling the room
with warmth and comfort

A waltz gently plays
and couples glide
in tender embrace
along the polished floor

Darkness rules outside
as does the November chill
wafting along city centre streets
with marked windows

Light flares up rudely
as a bonfire shoots tongues
of fire into the night sky
illuminating the scene

Light flares up further
refracted by thousands
of crystals scattered
along streets of darkness

Gaping mouths where windows were
Glass pulverised into countless crystals
Fire spreads
consuming the culture

Books are burned
their writers were deemed unfit
for the country whose Leader
sought to exterminate

The millions of fragments
of broken glass, of crystal
scatter the light of the fire
burning the synagogues

Soon the worshippers
will follow the fate of their temple
The light of the fire
overshadows the continent

Dying into dull embers
the dancers fade into shadows
as the light goes out over Europe
on Kristallnacht

Thursday 8 November

What started out as quite reasonable day with good sunny spells, has now gone downhill at a rate of knots. As I type this (just after 11pm), a force 7 southerly wind is lashing us with spells of rain. A major Atlantic depression, whose influence on weather extends from Iceland to the Azores, is pushing frontal systems in. These will be followed by cooler weather. Conversely, or perhaps perversely, after being hit by snow this week, New York will be enjoying temps of 17C in the next few days.

I have to observe, with considerable sadness, that after a day's respite, vitriol has returned to the internet regarding the re-election of Barack Obama as president of the USA. I can very well imagine that those who did not relish the prospect of Mr Obama's second term are perhaps disappointed that Mr Romney did not get in. But it is not done to assail others, who hold differing political opinions, on-line. I think it would be much better if politics was given a rest for a couple of weeks. Here in Scotland, we are facing 98 weeks of independence debate (read: garbage), and things will be getting a lot worse than over the USA, I'll give you that as my opinion.

Stulaval

Now derelict on the shore of Loch Reasort
Little Luachair stands
Years back a carpenter came
over the hills from Bowglass

After job's end he was left
with some planks
which he carried back
below the frowning cliffs

A sound of hammerblows
echoed below the face
of stern Stulaval
Regular and slow

Turning around
the carpenter espied
nothing
and nobody

But the tapping
continued
Soon he descended
over the hills into Vigadale

Reached home but
his hearth was cold
and nobody around
except his wife, no longer alive

The carpenter hammered
his wife's coffin
An echo of the hammerblows
Below cold Stulaval