Standing at harbours end, staring out over the Moray Firth. Sun slowly setting, casting red and orange hues over the still sea. Many times I have been standing here and still the same feelings ripple through my soul. a breeze wells up and catches the water forming what resembles white horse manes racing along the surface. Crashing onto the sandy bay forever lost. massive rock formations dominate the eye line like red rock bleeding into the ground. The walls of harbour strong withstanding storms a plenty. Haven to the little boats resting in its protective arm. Not so long ago fishermen with their deep sea harvest, would unload the silver darlings, sent over sea. Dolphins now leap amid laughter and awe, entertaining those on shore, mainly though, themselves.

Overlooking us from his lofty domain struts a hill trying to be a mountain, climbed by many feet. Grouse and owls make home on its slopes moved only by crunching feet. Trees swaying by river side where dippers underwater fly past and avoid the trout and catch the small fry.Victorian raiway lines carried above on stone built viaduct that used to carry good folks from industrial conglomerates to bask in northern air, fresh and clear. Close by minds not very far sighted , saving pennies then but desperatly needed now. Minds closed to future trends but governing a country into oblivion. Gardens growing beautifully round a hidden house, amongst the trees and shrubs. A little old church still survives tended by quiet stoical folk , and in its shade ancestors reside.

Fields of gold ripen about the town a harvest of grain. Etched forever on young minds now grown old , like photographs of old , may be faded and sometimes forgotten. Then suddenly a fair passed through, on a tour of villages along the firth, stalls and games to excite and thrill. Once upon a day a festival was held with music loud amid the country estate, never to be heard again. Fisher folk have now all departed leaving houses empty and full of memories along with cobwebs. Dark in winter all have gone, sea birds now cry a lonely call.

Dreams and hopes filling heads and souls lit by setting sun, rays of dark night.