Rousay Mending—its tangible elements illustrated
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Such an Air—a Coda
Such an Air VI The poet John Sharkey's arrival in Rousay was completely unexpected. He had followed Ian from Edinburgh, more or less on a whim. Malnourished, impoverished and sick with the rigours of travel, probably by hitch-hiking, he spent a week or so recovering in hospital
Such an Air (V)
Such an Air (IV) GEORGE SUFFERED too from this shivering thing, and hadn’t believed Ian would make it back here. He’d long been physically sick as well, with TB, but had got away at last, via Newbattle, and Muir, and now the university. Whatever he did later, the
Such an Air (IV)
Such an Air (III) WEDNESDAYS IN Kirkwall were half-day closing, and the other week Ernest had asked Ian along to the Cathedral. He was keen to tell him more about the plans already in progress for a plaque to be installed there in Edwin's honour, interred as
Such an Air (VI)
Such an Air (V) SO.—JOCK? GIRLIE? The boys at the quarry? His own Arcadians. There were plenty of stories, and things he felt towards: nets, boats, lapsters, moons, creels, cuithes. Seaboots. Folk “not disquieted by the desire for change,” as Pater has it. Well, almost. What had Girlie called