My immediate thought leads me to Baudelaire’s Elevation, as I reach the top of one of my favourite headlands, Compass Head. From this altitude, I contemplate the majesty of the southern edge of the island. Today, shameless blue defines both sides of horizon. Tall grass in full bloom bows to a cool wind and feathers glide among eddies. There isn’t a single dry stone wall; only a fence to save sheep from obliging to gravity… Those quadrupeds do not seem daunted by running so close to the edge, fenced or not. From this angle, Sumburgh Head Light soothes my heart. It feels so safe in the distance. How I savour this moment of plenitude. My avian companions defy the whims of the wind through dare-devil acrobatics; a shameless sun warms my epidermis. All feels at peace in this chaos. To feel at one with my hillside, I lay the length of my body and listen to the wind.
What a lovely afternoon… Kate’s Sky of Honey crops in my head, like a very natural leitmotiv. My North Atlantic resembles le coeur de la mer and shines like a thousand sapphires. In the distance, two islands rekindle happy memories – Fair Isle to the SSW and Noss, NNE. Both “big rocks” are home to a myriad of feathers. Both dominate the horizon, as they tower up in this Nordic sky. And I feel somewhere in between… Breathing out and breathing in. Serenity fills my heart. I love the view and find my place in the tall grass. Time has become irrelevant, here, as the universe synchronizes my earthride. This code of chaos reigns all around the peninsula in sheer splendour! …Up, up,up on the roof! In the sun…. Aerial
Drinking from the blue cup of both sky and Atlantic can only connect us with the world and generate happiness to the point of giddiness! Such moments may not last days on end, hence their precious status! On my way back to the magic line of latitude, Foula (“Bird Island”) smiles at me from the West. I love the way monsieur Baudelaire elevates the heart; he would feel home on this island.
Cloudbusting is now playing on the computer, as this walk comes to an end. Kate’s 1985 anthem remains tattooed in my heart every time I go uphill. Not Oxfordshire’s Dragon Hill, but a headland I sometimes reach to touch and dream. Hmmm, on such subject of mythical place-names, I have Dragon’s Head at Ninian, The Drongs (Dragon’s Teeth) at Eshaness and Dragon’s Leg on Bressay… Though I promised myself to re-visit Dragon’s Hill on my next trip to Oxfordshire!