From immersing us in the wonder of place to the contrariness of our continued exploitation of the environment… There are kelp-like twists and turns here. I too notice the new colonisation of Northeast Scotland—turbines, cable routes, pylons, afforestation of farmland—and the screaming injustice of the historic surcharge that the people here pay for their electricity. This, surely, is overdue for change. I was staggered to read that your swallows were at that moment still with you. Ours left on 18 September.
Yes, the Viking development in Shetland is a cautionary tale. Here in Orkney, the local council is planning their own onshore turbine developments (alongside private ones on two beautiful headlands, that failed local planning but were ‘called in’ and overturned by the Scottish Gov) However the initial outlay is huge and risky for a tiny local council strapped for cash. Let’s hope the new GB Energy will be able to step in with low-interest loans so at least some of the developments can be under local ownership and control, for local benefit.
Oh, and our swallows were gone by the time the post came out, but they were still here a week ago doing wheelies around the chimney, revving their engines...
“I’m a siphon, like a bivalve or an urchin, a filter-feeder taking stuff in and sending it out into the world again; water, breath, thoughts, ideas, words, images.”
What a beautiful metaphor for the life of an artist.
This was such a gorgeous read and interesting dispatch from the far reaches of Britain. Some exquisite nature writing here, and a balanced, nuanced look at the impact of offshore energy on local communities. I share your feeling of being both heartened by this necessary transition, but also wary of the interests of big business. A piece to return to. 💙
Hi Samantha. I came across this because it was restacked by Caroline Mellor, whom I have also only just come across. It's early morning here in Australia, mid Spring and mid latitude, with a warm day ahead and the Pacific Ocean sparkling an invitation to the lovers of sand and sea and sun. Your writing gave me a clear window into a very different seaside, far away, lit with the softer tones of the declining Northern year. I really enjoy the way you transitioned from a private meditation on a specific place, shoreline and seascape, to the wider world and turmoil in which that place is now set. It was a very gentle way of teaching something, and I relished every word.
I have been greatly enjoying Rebecca Hooper's writing and images as well, also Orcadian, but when I look more closely I see that you are already recommending each other, which is how I picked up my subscription here. I'm just arriving late to the party. :)
Fabulous writing Sam, the birds, rock pools, beauty of Orkney sings out loud and clear. The sense of extraction resonates too, in Kintyre, where we also have plenty of wind to power all our homes and businesses, the electricity generated is sent south, some paid for in advance and at discounted rates by Amazon for their warehouses. We pay premium rates, to subsidise big business elsewhere. Beware promises made too, these companies are fickle, promising the earth until the planning consents are granted, and then off they go, contributing nothing more than turbines and pylons. All the while NPF 4, all but guarantees wind farm approvals, and we are in a fight for the biodiversity of the peninsula, which seems to be conveniently ignored, threatening our ancient rainforests. Apparently wind energy is more important than natures own climate activists the trees themselves. Soap box put back beneath the bed. We are in this together I think, we want green energy, just not at any cost, and not at the expense of natures solutions.
Keep that soap box where it’s needed, Sarah! Here in Orkney we have the additional complication of the only viable seam of uranium in the UK, running right across west Mainland. Proposals to mine it in the 1970s were seen off by vigorous local opposition, but it’s still there, waiting for the next burst of enthusiasm for ‘zero carbon’ nuclear energy.
I had no idea about the uranium, when will humans start putting back instead of extracting. I have always worried about this, even as a child. It gets worse year by year, despite the efforts of so many caring people to make a difference, we just need to help those that care keep going!
Thank you for this! It is extraordinary. I love the way it brings together past, present (both human present, very real, with the words on "fuel poverty;" and the present of the natural world) and the future/potential futures.
Am especially grateful to be the recipient of the sharing of the present, intense natural beauty of that place in so many different ways: though your own beautiful sentences, through the video and images, and through the quotes -- this one will stay with me for a long time: "In midwinter the sun intrudes for only a few hours into the great darkness, but the January nights are magnificent – star-hung skies, the slow heavy swirling silk of the aurora borealis, the moon in a hundred waters: a silver plate, a broken honeycomb, a cluster of fireflies."
I hope that the future brings good things, and avoids the painful ones, and that the human present, too, is worked with and improved.
Am just happy, at this moment, to be sharing in all of it, from far away.
Nobody writes about Orkney quite like George Mackay Brown did. But I’m happy to share what I can, and deepen my own understanding and engagement with this richly resonant place in the process. Thank you Maria, as ever, for your thoughtful engagement and comments.
"I’m a siphon, like a bivalve or an urchin, a filter-feeder taking stuff in and sending it out into the world again; water, breath, thoughts, ideas, words, images."
You are a brilliant observer/thinker/writer Samantha, zooming out from fine sense observations to existential matters of great import. Thank you! 👏👏
From immersing us in the wonder of place to the contrariness of our continued exploitation of the environment… There are kelp-like twists and turns here. I too notice the new colonisation of Northeast Scotland—turbines, cable routes, pylons, afforestation of farmland—and the screaming injustice of the historic surcharge that the people here pay for their electricity. This, surely, is overdue for change. I was staggered to read that your swallows were at that moment still with you. Ours left on 18 September.
Yes, the Viking development in Shetland is a cautionary tale. Here in Orkney, the local council is planning their own onshore turbine developments (alongside private ones on two beautiful headlands, that failed local planning but were ‘called in’ and overturned by the Scottish Gov) However the initial outlay is huge and risky for a tiny local council strapped for cash. Let’s hope the new GB Energy will be able to step in with low-interest loans so at least some of the developments can be under local ownership and control, for local benefit.
Oh, and our swallows were gone by the time the post came out, but they were still here a week ago doing wheelies around the chimney, revving their engines...
“I’m a siphon, like a bivalve or an urchin, a filter-feeder taking stuff in and sending it out into the world again; water, breath, thoughts, ideas, words, images.”
What a beautiful metaphor for the life of an artist.
Thank you. :)
We’re just filter feeders!
Glamorous! 🤭
Thank you, Samantha. A brilliant piece of writing to start the day.
Thank you Amy. That means so much to hear.
This was such a gorgeous read and interesting dispatch from the far reaches of Britain. Some exquisite nature writing here, and a balanced, nuanced look at the impact of offshore energy on local communities. I share your feeling of being both heartened by this necessary transition, but also wary of the interests of big business. A piece to return to. 💙
Thank you Caroline. It's worth following the Viking Wind 'farm' story in Shetland. A cautionary of exactly how not to do it...
Hi Samantha. I came across this because it was restacked by Caroline Mellor, whom I have also only just come across. It's early morning here in Australia, mid Spring and mid latitude, with a warm day ahead and the Pacific Ocean sparkling an invitation to the lovers of sand and sea and sun. Your writing gave me a clear window into a very different seaside, far away, lit with the softer tones of the declining Northern year. I really enjoy the way you transitioned from a private meditation on a specific place, shoreline and seascape, to the wider world and turmoil in which that place is now set. It was a very gentle way of teaching something, and I relished every word.
I have been greatly enjoying Rebecca Hooper's writing and images as well, also Orcadian, but when I look more closely I see that you are already recommending each other, which is how I picked up my subscription here. I'm just arriving late to the party. :)
Lovely to connect with you across those miles of ocean, David. Greetings from my shore to yours!
Fabulous writing Sam, the birds, rock pools, beauty of Orkney sings out loud and clear. The sense of extraction resonates too, in Kintyre, where we also have plenty of wind to power all our homes and businesses, the electricity generated is sent south, some paid for in advance and at discounted rates by Amazon for their warehouses. We pay premium rates, to subsidise big business elsewhere. Beware promises made too, these companies are fickle, promising the earth until the planning consents are granted, and then off they go, contributing nothing more than turbines and pylons. All the while NPF 4, all but guarantees wind farm approvals, and we are in a fight for the biodiversity of the peninsula, which seems to be conveniently ignored, threatening our ancient rainforests. Apparently wind energy is more important than natures own climate activists the trees themselves. Soap box put back beneath the bed. We are in this together I think, we want green energy, just not at any cost, and not at the expense of natures solutions.
Keep that soap box where it’s needed, Sarah! Here in Orkney we have the additional complication of the only viable seam of uranium in the UK, running right across west Mainland. Proposals to mine it in the 1970s were seen off by vigorous local opposition, but it’s still there, waiting for the next burst of enthusiasm for ‘zero carbon’ nuclear energy.
I had no idea about the uranium, when will humans start putting back instead of extracting. I have always worried about this, even as a child. It gets worse year by year, despite the efforts of so many caring people to make a difference, we just need to help those that care keep going!
Keep doing the good work you do, Sarah. wrm wishes from the windy North to the rainy West!
“But the winters must be so dark!
Just so.”
This brought a smile to my lips.
The whole piece is beautiful—made me yearn to slip into cold water and pink my skin in the shower after. And your bivalve/artist metaphor, divine.
Thank you Holly! Long may your desk keep rolling, open to the world. Sending cold-then-warm wishes from my not-so-rolling desk to yours!
Thank you for this! It is extraordinary. I love the way it brings together past, present (both human present, very real, with the words on "fuel poverty;" and the present of the natural world) and the future/potential futures.
Am especially grateful to be the recipient of the sharing of the present, intense natural beauty of that place in so many different ways: though your own beautiful sentences, through the video and images, and through the quotes -- this one will stay with me for a long time: "In midwinter the sun intrudes for only a few hours into the great darkness, but the January nights are magnificent – star-hung skies, the slow heavy swirling silk of the aurora borealis, the moon in a hundred waters: a silver plate, a broken honeycomb, a cluster of fireflies."
I hope that the future brings good things, and avoids the painful ones, and that the human present, too, is worked with and improved.
Am just happy, at this moment, to be sharing in all of it, from far away.
Nobody writes about Orkney quite like George Mackay Brown did. But I’m happy to share what I can, and deepen my own understanding and engagement with this richly resonant place in the process. Thank you Maria, as ever, for your thoughtful engagement and comments.
"I’m a siphon, like a bivalve or an urchin, a filter-feeder taking stuff in and sending it out into the world again; water, breath, thoughts, ideas, words, images."
You are a brilliant observer/thinker/writer Samantha, zooming out from fine sense observations to existential matters of great import. Thank you! 👏👏
Thank you so much for this, Baird! and thank you for restacking too.
Appreciate hearing about Orkney and the changing seasons and imagining island nature opens up the senses