Living Routes: October 19 - A Slew of Overdue Pictures

I apologize for not writing sooner. After the clarity and stillness of Erraid, I've had a difficult time readjusting to the relative chaos at the Findhorn Foundation Park. It's admittedly humorous that the Park initially seemed like a peaceful place to me (compared to much of America I suppose), but I think whenever a place begins to feel like home, I start looking for a refuge from that place, no matter how miraculously suited to me the place may be. Erraid was most certainly that refuge – but don’t think I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed the Park, and suspect I'll continue to do so until my term is up.

The small island of Erraid was one of those rare places I know I'll want to see again - it was like a fantasy for me. There was an expansiveness about the whole place, which was held in stark contrast to the eight cozy houses we stayed in (8 out of 9 on the island). They were positioned just in front of the sea, bordered by abundant vegetable gardens and fences for milk cows. We spent our days working alongside the community of 23 people (15 of which were in my group visiting the island). I spent hours chopping wood and clearing out a garden area for winter, and others worked in the kitchen or candle studio. Evenings were spent in good company, knitting, reading, playing board games, or taking long, cold walks by the ocean… an ocean we repeatedly dived into after a hard day’s work. Everything we did during the day affected the community, because it was so small and more or less self-sufficient. Our milk was from our cows, the veggies from our garden, extra clothing layers from a dresser full of second-hand clothing, bread and meals from our kitchen… it was simple and fulfilling.
The set-up isn’t perfect – the electricity, for example, is still on the grid, because they can’t afford to put up windmills yet. But it was as close to my version of perfect I’ve ever seen, wind and rain notwithstanding.

The infamous outhouses and the illustrious Emma Dines

The view from within

The stove Leaf is standing beside was made out of an oceanic mine. It’s now used to melt the wax for candles. Talk about recycling

Samantha with Cow Droppings. These ‘little’ beauties were littered across the landscape, including our backyards...

Each of these roofs contained two houses – check out the view I got every morning…

At the top of a giant hill… Scotland has nothing compared to Oregon’s mountains, but I don't usually try to climb Oregonian mts. in only Wellies and a windbreaker… it was quite a walk.

We had to make it through several small bogs on the way. I only got stuck once, but it wasn’t pretty.

The Wishing Stone at the peak of the hill. The water around it has gathered naturally, and locals and guests either lean or stand on it and send their wishes to the sky.

Somehow we got everyone up there (I’m on the top right hand side)

Just down the hill... paradise

I had to go swimming. The water was so clear I could see my feet even where they couldn’t reach the sand

The group often gathered in the community room at the end of the day to play guitar, games, or just hang about. This room contained the only TV on the island, so naturally we watched all of Gandhi one evening. Not exactly light fare, but well worth the viewing.