10-14-2023, Scarfskerry/John O’Groats on the northern coast of Scotland. In what we would call a tiny home, a Quonset hut made of wood, 15’/10’. Gale force winds all night, 41mph, rain, and some sleet.
We were shaken and rattled all night as the wind swept the heat out of our tiny fair haven twice driving me out of bed to turn up the heat, a meager little electric floor model barely able to keep down a chill. Another time when you realize the miracle of your lover being 98.6° is worshipful. Her and a thick comforter allowed us to sleep soundly. It blew all day yesterday making walking difficult and being outside for any length of time unwise. These are times when God’s presence is not only welcome but advisable. The North Sea is a stirring boil, ice-cold blue throwing herself against Great Britain. The elements are on and are putting on a grand show. I told Betty yesterday “I’m surprised this place hasn’t been washed away eons ago.” Morning has broken, grey, and cold but our gold star brightens the horizon. We turn south today after 8 days north, two days to Glasgow, and then a United Magic Carpet ride home to our beloved Fair Haven, a true anchor in the storm.
The video we sent our family. Excuse the sentiments shared. |
| If you look close you can see the grass blown flat. |
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