Pebble collecting

I called my blog pebble collecting and then made scant reference to pebbles thereafter.

So now you get to see pebbles......

This is the story of these pebbles, the smooth pebbles.

Many years ago we took a trip to the Ardnamurchan Penninsula.  It is a remote part of the Scottish mainland and the most westerly part of the mainland of Britain.  You get there on 30 miles of single track road with passing places, or you did when we traveled there 25 years ago.

We stayed at a cottage that looked towards Rum, Eigg and Muck.  The location was remote but beautiful.

As it was Scotland we took advantage of our right to roam and did a lot of walking.  On one of those walks we came upon a cove where the beach was sand and pebbles.  It felt like no-one had stepped on that beach for thousands of years.  It was remote and as I recall we got to it down an awkward gully.

The sound of the pebbles washing up and down on the beach was mesmerising and as I picked up a couple of the pebbles I was amazed by how smooth and soft they felt.

I stood and looked at all the pebbles and chose these three.

They are my favourite pebbles.  They are reassuring pebbles that feel like they have had a lifetime of rhythmically washing back and forth on that beach, slowly accumulating the restful solitude of the landscape.

To me they are more than pebbles, they are a link to a charmed place of solace.  Maybe that's the reason why I keep them next to my bed and why, each time I hold them in my hand, I feel a sense of the calmness of the beach from whence they came.