Before we moved to Scotland’s Far North, we spent many years visiting the area in our homemade camper. I’m delighted for The Peatlands Partnership to be featuring a poem I wrote about this on their ‘Stories’ page.

Flow Country

Another bridge, only here at Dornoch the tide

is out, mudflats stretching into the summer dusk

with endless glowing puddles, while out to sea

it is as white and intangible as heaven. We’ve made

this journey many times, first in your R-reg Transit,

and now in the silver VW, but always loaded with

your surfboards and a yellowing Silentnight mattress,

my books piled about the floor on the passenger’s side

(usually some Neil Gunn, which I will insist

on reading aloud even though you hate it).

Read the whole piece over on their website.


One thought on “Memories

  1. I greatly enjoyed reading your poem, Laura. It expressed to me a part of your life, a desire, a journey and I understood well how you both felt “cradled in each other’s silence and by the waves that are breaking”


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