There will be no more human nesting between these sad and broken Caithness chimneys. The stonework press- not changed in design or usefulness since Skara Brae- will hold no more crowdie, linen or Bible. The last flames that warmed these cold ruins were not from peat in this fireplace but from the rampaging flames of the factor’s torch on the roof, fired by the never ceasing and incendiary wind, as he burned the inhabitants out of this home- only obeying the landowner’s orders. Driven to the alien coast to make way for sheep the people discovered that the wind on the peatlands was as nothing to that on the high sea cliffs at Badbea where their children had to be tied with ropes staked to the ground to prevent them being blown away.
Robin A Crawford 