Winding Roads

We’re back from our Summer holiday, and I was reminded of a short break earlier this year.  This poem was written as we drove to Argyll in the west of Scotland on holiday. The scenery was spectacular. It was a Spring afternoon in April. Our journey had been prolonged by road diversions and we were weary to arrive at our destination. I know we all complain about the weather in the UK, but I do welcome the abundance of rain which is bestowed upon us in Scotland as it transforms our landscape into a vibrant painting of lush colours bursting with life and energy.  I think there’s a Scandinavian saying which goes along the lines of: “There is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing!”  Enjoy the poem.

Winding Roads

Winding roads and lumpy hills
Lined by crowds of daffodils
Cheering on the weary traveller
“Not long now!” they cry.
Snow-crested mountains
Stand strong and serene
A majestic backdrop to this wonderful scene:
Ochre heather and grey-coloured scree
Trees clinging on at odd degrees
Ancient rocks clad in moss against the cold
Respite for travellers in days of old
We are intruders in this landscape
Yet it seems a part of me –
Our shared heritage and history.
But this land belongs to all, not some.
Softly winding roads leading us home.

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