“I’m glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” L. M. Montgomery
I call these pieces my ramblings if I am being unkind to myself, but these days, I am all about being kind. Every time I look at this page, I promise myself I will write more regularly, at least once a week. And then I don’t. Have a fossick. I cover a lot of random subjects and one of these days I will discover self-discipline and write even more. At least once a week.
“Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way.” Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows. There’s a scene in The Wind and the Willows when Mole, despite all his exciting adventures with Ratty and Toad and Badger,…
Confessions of an unseasoned traveller. I had all sorts of lofty plans to do more writing when I got to Montpellier, but I have been unable. I have forgotten how to speak English. I even forgot this isn’t new, whenever I go to a country where I don’t speak the language I somehow forget how…
Today I cried in Oslo. I was surprised, and then I remembered that I’d done this before. I’ve burst into tears on bridges in Paris, making snow angels in Switzerland, clambering over the rocks on the shores of Kinagoe Bay in Donegal and at the southernmost tip of Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands. Mostly,…
I’m in storied country. Fort Augustus at the edge of Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands. The stones that line the shallows of the Loch, the trees dripping with lichen lace, the fir trees dressed green and warm for winter. Everything is steeped in myth and you can feel you’re walking ancient paths. It’s so…
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Photo: Karen Timmins
About Me
Gillian is a former radio broadcaster and journalist, who writes random observations and short, short stories.
Gillian O’Shaughnessy 