Cullen Sink

Cullen Sink*
by Terri Lee-Shield

It was cold outside. Not icy or frosty cold, more a heavy damp air several degrees below comfortable. The drizzle had soaked every part of me. My hair stuck to my head and water dripped down my face. I didn't care.

The walk had been exhilerating.
As I stopped I began to notice my hunger. The temptation of a hot cup of tea was too much to resist.

When I arrived at the cafe, presenting myself as a sodden pilgrim, the waitress looked at me with great concern as I ordered tea and cullen sink, alfresco.
I sat, in the rain, at the side of the loch.

Everyone else sat inside, warm and comfortable. They chatted and laughed as they ate beside the view.
I sat, and wondered.
Are they really looking? Do they see what they came to this cafe to see? Have they watched the loch floating by in all it's perfection? Have they noticed the mist in the hills? Do they see the ever changing colours of the trees as leaves dance with the wind?

Does it matter?

No one asked my why I sat alone, eating outside in the rain. Some people did watch me; I felt their eyes. Some laughed at me, I felt their smiles.

I was just sitting there, listening to the loch. Hearing the stories it had to tell me. I was eaves dropping on a conversation between water, wind and rain. A communication between land, trees and birds. There was so much to hear out there in the quiet. The loch had so much to say, in all her knowing. sharing with me so generously.

As I sat there quiet enough to hear it, I became part of the sound.

The endless din of mindless chatter from inside could not penetrate the tripe glazed safety glass.

Bliss.



Dhanakosa, Scotland, 2014

*there are no errors on this page. Once you see that you will find the peace in the story.

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