The Bay at the Back of the Ocean

In a few days time, Judy and I will walk to the Bay at the Back of the Ocean on Iona. This evocative name has mysterious origins, but is an English translation from the Scots Gaelic of Camas Cuil an t-Saimh .
There is a fabulous blow hole there which at high tide and in high seas sends spray pouting into the air above the rocks and, looking west there is nothing but the Atlantic all the way to North America.

Above the sands of the beach is a stretch of mahair, wild grasses and flowers that are grazed by the island's sheep.
It is a peaceful, sublime place.
We're so thankful to be revisiting the island and look forward to a time of true rest and recuperation, for when we get back April will be almost over and there is so much to do.


Nicholas




This is me leaning against a cairn on Dun-I, the highest point on the Isle of Iona.

It is here, on this tiny island that I feel the incredible sense of coming home to some ancient part of myself. I am not alone in this experience, for thousands of years, pilgrims have come to this little piece of earth in the Atlantic seeking sanctuary and healing.


Perhaps these words, read by my sister and my Father-in-law at our wedding ceremony might express it best...


A few places in the world are held to be holy, because of the love which consecrates them and the faith which enshrines them. Their names are themselves talismans of spiritual beauty, Of these is Iona.


It is but a small isle, fashioned of a little sand, a few grasses salt with the spray of an ever-restless wave, a few rocks that wade in heather and upon whose brows the sea-wind weaves the yellow lichen.


From age to age, lonely hearts have never ceased to bring their burden here. 
And here hope waits.
To tell the story of Iona is to go back to God, and to end in God.


Fiona Macleod


Judy