Thursday, 7 December 2017

The Wind Beneath Our Wings... Again.

You can't live in Orkney and then complain about bad weather. (Except we do. Constantly.) On days like these it's better just to give in to it. It's not blowing a gale, It's just Orkney 'singing':




Click to enlarge
Poem taken from a 1948 edition of The Orcadian. (16th December 1948).
Posted by at
Labels: , ,

1 comment:

  1. GenKnit24 December 2017 at 15:12

    That's a lovely poem! Maybe not so much for you natives, but to me, it's beautiful (and much like a hurricane, though I do not love Texas. ^_^).

    ReplyDelete

Are you delighted by what you have just read? Are you revulsed and appalled? Do let us know, we'd love to hear from you.

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)