Stones, food, peat

The sun showed-up today
to lighten our hearts:

we hit the road with a plan
and drank-in

a beautiful broch; 
Norse Mill and kiln; 

blackhouses that fell to ruin
at the hands of time and

progress; the light dancing
on royal blue lochans

sea dashing at the coast.
We ate our food under a

squall, but the grey died
away leaving

sun, wind, and we
turned back, the smell of

peat on our clothes.

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