We have been in the Scottish cottage for a week or so now; re-acquainting ourselves with the place (Armadale, Highlands) and renewing our spirits and souls.
We have hassled with technology for a bit, but think we might have won that episode for now. Hence blogging again!
Across the bay from our cottage is another locality called Ladnegulin; and we visited to have look at a croft house for sale. Just because...
It was described as derelict in the sales blurb, and that it was, but it was beautiful in its dilapidation. Certainly I don't want to live there, or attempt to renovate it, but I just ached with the beauty of its windows and their stories.
So many stories told and untold from this place I am sure.
Our cottage is across the other side of Armadale Bay (but not in this photo, it is more to the left).
The curtains...
Attempts to protect...
And a door...
It was interesting how my interest in it as a dwelling dissipated as we spent time there; I was instead caught by the ageing of it, the loss of things, the loss of the people who had lived their lives there; a multiplicity of losses, and yet its dignity was steadfast.
So much beauty in this place; always found in the unexpected corners and hollows, and coves...
We have hassled with technology for a bit, but think we might have won that episode for now. Hence blogging again!
Across the bay from our cottage is another locality called Ladnegulin; and we visited to have look at a croft house for sale. Just because...
It was described as derelict in the sales blurb, and that it was, but it was beautiful in its dilapidation. Certainly I don't want to live there, or attempt to renovate it, but I just ached with the beauty of its windows and their stories.
So many stories told and untold from this place I am sure.
Our cottage is across the other side of Armadale Bay (but not in this photo, it is more to the left).
Attempts to protect...
And a door...
It was interesting how my interest in it as a dwelling dissipated as we spent time there; I was instead caught by the ageing of it, the loss of things, the loss of the people who had lived their lives there; a multiplicity of losses, and yet its dignity was steadfast.
So much beauty in this place; always found in the unexpected corners and hollows, and coves...
the melancholy beauty of time
ReplyDeleteSuch a lovely way to put it Mo - melancholy was all about...
Deletethe curtains seem like prayer flags ... perhaps because they are much on my mind
ReplyDeleteThey really do don't they Liz? Again, steadfast and long-lasting, weathering...
DeleteBeautifully melancholic. Can hear the whispers from the families from before but they seem lost in translation.
ReplyDeleteI am always pulled by these old abandoned crofts and almost feel a pain when near them.
The whispers were quiet, but profoundly heard...I didn't show any inside photos, but that is where my heart was aching most - the stories inside of the lives that had been led, and that had left...I understand your sense of pain.
Deletelovely pictures of a (once) lovely house.
ReplyDeleteThanks Annick - it must have been a lovely home I am sure, much loved.
DeleteWhere is the "I adore this place" button!
ReplyDelete