#scottish highlands
Algy and the dragon waiting for spring raising
translated from a @adventuresofalgyphoto
Quel magnifique paysage! Tellement plus vif et beau que le vrai - Algy et le petit dragon vert l'adorent Merci beaucoup, mon ami
Algy and his little green dragon friend were utterly thrilled to see this gorgeous representation of their resting place by the burn painted by their kind and talented French painter @peintre-stephane whose work is always so fabulously colourful and vibrant.
This glowing paysage is so much more lovely and colourful than the west Highland landscape actually is at this time of year (in reality almost entirely dull rusty browns and dirty yellows, where it isn’t just grey rock) - and the little green dragon is glowing even greener Just gorgeous - thank you so much❣️
Algy sends @peintre-stephane an extra special fluffy hug, with many more soft fluffy hugs for his lovely grandchildren xoxo
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On May 14th 1752 Colin Campbell, the Red Fox, was killed in the “Appin Murder” at Ballachulish
One of the most explored murders in our history, it is a tale of power, politics, deceit and injustice.
Many say The Appin Murder is one of the biggest if not the biggest miscarriage of justice in the history of Scotland. The law made James of the Glen a murderer, legend has made him the victim.
The Campbells were Hanoverians and in the process of clearing as many Stewarts off their lands as possible. James of the Glen and Colin Campbell, a land agent they called “The red Fox”, had had a fight over the evictions in an Alehouse that had been witnessed by a number of people. Campbell carried eviction orders when he was shot on his way to Duror on this day 1752, a few days after the alehouse scuffle. A man holding a musket had been seen disappearing into the woods. But who was that man?
Alan Breck, foster-son of the 50-year-old James Stewart, also known as Seaumas a’ Ghlinne, was the main suspect and his foster father was accused of having taken part in the killing. Breck fled to France so James of the Glen was taken prisoner and was not allowed any legal support until 36 hours before his trial. The judge was the duke of Argyll, chief of the clan Campbell, 11 of the 15 jurors were Campbells as well - Stewart. known as James of the Glen stood no chance. He never really defended himself either, but probably not because he was guilty but because he did not want to involve any of his kinsmen.
He was hanged for murder. A murder he very probably did not commit, it’s a term I have used a number of times in my posts, the execution of James Stewart on November 8th 1752 was a judicial murder.
By all accounts James of the Glen was a quiet and well liked man, he was educated, could read and write in both Scots and Gaelic, he was married to Margaret and had at least 3 children with her. The family lived on a farm in Glen Duror, a few miles South of Ballachulish, where he met his untimely end. He had fought on Culloden field, survived the uprising, only to be hung six years later.
They hanged him, put iron chains around his body and kept it hanging on the gibbet for three years. His bones were collected as they fell down and together with his wife Margaret laid to rest on Keil churchyard, the church already a ruin by that time.
For a wee bit more about the murder and investigations since, check out the link below.
https://www.historyscotland.com/history/the-appin-murder-of-1752-was-the-wrong-man-executed/
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It was Easter time at last, and spring was advancing with its magical, unstoppable force, even in the wild west Highlands of Scotland. The weather was uncomfortably cool, wet and windy, but the more it rained, the faster spring leaped forward, and Algy observed that his assistants’ garden was bursting into life at a remarkably rapid rate.
Algy’s strange wee friend, the little green dragon, had never seen a spectacle of this kind before and was glowing at a varying speed in perplexity, while Algy himself - who had witnessed the same miracle each year - found that he was astonished and thrilled anew by the incredible transformation. Of all the blossom and flowers in April he especially loved the beautiful white cherries, which despite the inhospitable climate rarely failed to bloom in all their glory.
So from his perch in a windswept cherry tree, Algy wishes you all a very Happy Easter, and hopes that whether you are twenty or seventy, or fifteen or fifty or ninety-five, you will pause and take time to “look at things in bloom” and delight in the wonderful blossoming of spring:
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
[Algy is quoting the poem Loveliest of trees from the collection A Shropshire Lad by the late 19th century/early 20th century English poet and classical scholar A E Housman.]
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The little green dragon had a fearsome expression on its face, as it was feeling both perplexed and frustrated. It could not understand why the flowers in the box had changed colour and shape, for when it had first seen them they had looked entirely different. It had little understanding of Nature, despite being a most remarkable natural phenomenon itself, and as botany was rarely studied in the dragon’s arid homeland of faraway Patadragonia, the funny wee creature knew nothing at all about the cultivation and lifecycles of flowering plants.
And it was greatly frustrated as well… When Algy pointed with delight to some beautiful blue hyacinths in the centre of the box, the little green dragon simply frowned, for try as it might, it simply could not glow in that colour. It was happiest glowing in varying hues of green, orange or red, and it could manage yellow reasonably well, as least for a short period of time - or even a reddish kind of purple if absolutely necessary - but blue was the one colour which completely defied it.
It sighed a loud and heartfelt little-green-dragonish sigh, disturbing a large bumblebee which was happily inspecting the fragrant blue hyacinth, and as the bee buzzed away to find other attractive flowers, the dragon followed it with a resentful eye.
Algy laughed, and tried to comfort his friend. “Don’t be like that,” he said. “We can’t always glow in the all the colours we want to! Look at me… I can’t even glow at all! I’m just fluffy. Don’t try to combat Nature - just enjoy the flowers!”
“Nature” is what we see—
The Hill—the Afternoon—
Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee—
Nay—Nature is Heaven—
Nature is what we hear—
The Bobolink—the Sea—
Thunder—the Cricket—
Nay—Nature is Harmony—
Nature is what we know—
Yet have no art to say—
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.
[Algy is quoting the poem Nature is what we see by the 19th century American poet Emily Dickinson.]
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It had been a braw week in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, albeit a wee bit on the chilly side, and Algy and his little green dragon friend had made the most of the unusually fine spring sunshine, for the weather ahead did not look so good… in fact the forecast suggested that it was about to start raining, and would then continue non-stop, in dense Scotch mist, until Wednesday of next week…
But for the moment all was bright and beautiful, and even tolerably warm at ground level, which caused the little green dragon to emit a happy orange glow as he chatted with Algy among the pretty spring flowers. As Algy looked at the primroses around them, he remembered an odd little poem by William Wordsworth, and - wondering whether his funny wee friend had ever eaten strawberries - he anticipated what he fervently hoped would be a bountiful strawberry harvest in months to come, even though he had observed that the strawberry plants in his assistants’ garden were not even thinking about flowering just yet…
Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
–Here are daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower:
Of the lofty daffodil
Make your bed, or make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;
Only spare the strawberry-blossom!
Primroses, the Spring may love them–
Summer knows but little of them:
Violets, a barren kind,
Withered on the ground must lie;
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.
God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured strawberry-flower.
Hither soon as spring is fled
You and Charles and I will walk;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,
Then will hang on every stalk,
Each within its leafy bower;
And for that promise spare the flower!
[Algy is quoting most of the poem Foresight by the 19th century English poet William Wordsworth.]
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It was the first weekend of spring in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, and although it could hardly be said to be warm, even in that much coveted but rarely discovered “sheltered spot out of the wind”, Algy found the sunshine quite dazzling after the endless months of darkness.
So he tucked himself down behind another patch of daffodils, together with his little dragon friend - who was glowing so brightly with the fresh colours of spring that he almost rivalled the flowers themselves - and they spent a happy day relaxing in Algy’s assistants’ garden, discussing such profound topics as the question of why not all daffodils are yellow, while Algy’s assistants indulged in the hard labour which is the duty of all gardeners at this season of the year.
As they chatted, Algy told the little green dragon that, owing to the magic that is tumblr, the image of their rainbow dance had reached many new friends, all around the world…
And so Algy sends very special fluffy hugs to all his new followers - and, of course, to all those friends who have been following his adventures for some time - and he hopes that you will all have a chance to relax in some pleasant sunshine this weekend…
☀️ ☀️ ☀️ ☀️ ☀️
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Spring had arrived at last, and although the air and wind were still cold, there was a quality of warmth in the vernal sunshine which Algy had not felt for six months or more - not to mention an enormous increase in the quantity and intensity of light, which was almost too bright to contemplate after the endless months of dreary darkness under perpetual rain clouds.
Few creatures could resist the joys of such a spring day, and Algy and his little green dragon friend were no exception. When they saw a large clump of daffodils opening their petals in the sun they rushed towards them and revelled in the glory of the golden trumpets.
As Algy watched his friend inspect the unfamiliar flowers, he was delighted to observe that there were several bumblebees buzzing around them, and all the birds of the vicinity were helping to celebrate the coming of spring in their own individual voices. Some only managed a chirrup or a tweet, and some proclaimed their opinions with an incessant “widgy widgy widgy widgy widgy”, but for a moment Algy caught the beautiful sound of the first skylark of the season, singing in the heavens, and he smiled a very large fluffy bird smile.
Resting on the mossy ground under the daffodils, it was inevitable that Algy was reminded of Wordsworth’s famous verses, for, like the poet, he “could not but be gay in such a jocund company”… although, basking in the sunshine with the little green dragon beside him, Algy was neither wandering nor feeling the slightest bit lonely.
So he hopes you will forgive him if he repeats the often-quoted poem once more for the sake of his dragon friend, for he suspects that the funny wee creature may not have had the usual advantages of a literary education when young
I wander’d lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: -
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company!
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils.
[Algy is of course quoting the famous poem Daffodils by the 19th century English poet William Wordsworth.]
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As Algy and his strange little friend were exploring the banks of the burn together, the little green dragon suddenly bounded towards a rock and lunged at a wee green plant that was trailing from a deep crevice.
Fascinated, Algy perched on a soft, dry heather bush beside his friend and watched while the dragon started to eat the bright green leaves of the plant with an enthusiastic glow.
“I didn’t know you ate plants,” exclaimed Algy. “I would have found you something special if I had known.”
The little green dragon interrupted its munching for a moment and looked round at Algy.
“It’s not easy being green,” it breathed softly, unwittingly quoting a much more famous character
“Of course this is not spinach, but…”
Eat a tomato and you’ll turn red
(I don’t think that’s really so);
Eat a carrot and you’ll turn orange
(Still and all, you never know);
Eat some spinach and you’ll turn green
(I’m not saying that it’s true
But that’s what I heard, and so
I thought I’d pass it on to you).
Algy pondered for a moment, ruffling his rather dishevelled feathers. “Then perhaps I should eat something fluffy,” he mused… “Do you think chocolate brownies would do?”
[The little green dragon is quoting the poem Vegetables by the 20th century American author Shel Silverstein.]
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Algy and the little green dragon tucked themselves down cosily among the dry heather and ferns on the banks of the trickling burn, where the rushing south-east wind could not reach them, and basked in the early spring sunshine, which, by the standards of the wild west coast of the Scottish Highlands, was for once not as cold as it might be…
Notwithstanding a cool, damp sensation around the tail feathers, Algy observed that the scrubby vegetation which covered this windswept landscape had dried out like tinder in the spring winds, although the ground itself was evidently still soggy from its winter drenching, and he cautioned his friend to avoid breathing fire while they were relaxing among the bushes, for conflagrations could spread very rapidly in these conditions.
So the little green dragon obediently restricted itself to emitting a throbbing glow which posed no danger to its surroundings, and Algy perceived that in this environment his funny little friend was surprisingly well camouflaged; perhaps there were more green plants growing around its home in faraway Patadragonia than he had noticed when he was there, for the wee creature glowed both green and red.
As they chatted happily in the sunshine, Algy remarked to his friend on the amazing phenomenon which is tumblr, reflecting on the wonderful way in which his adventures could fly out around the whole wide world through this medium, alighting he knew not where, and reaching all kinds of folk, he knew not who…
This inevitably reminded Algy of a particularly famous poem, although he wondered how many people knew more than the first two often-quoted lines, for the whole was so much more to the point
Algy sends his fluffiest thanks to all his wonderful tumblr friends, both old and new, who have welcomed him back to tumblr this past week, and sends his fluffiest hugs out around the world to reach you all xoxo
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
[Algy is quoting the famous poem The Arrow and the Song by the 19th century American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.]
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Algy had observed that his little green dragon friend was becoming a wee bit agitated, and he guessed that it might be feeling somewhat bemused and lost in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, which no doubt seemed a strange and alien land to a native of faraway Patadragonia.
So the next morning, which was fine but exceedingly windy, Algy suggested that they explore the local area around his home. He knew a wee sheltered spot by the burn where he thought his little friend might feel rather more comfortable, as it reminded him of a stream in Patadragonia to which the dragon had taken him when they had first met, almost a year ago.
Although it was mid-March, the landscape was showing little sign of spring green as yet, but while the two friends rested among the still-bare, scrubby bushes on the steep banks of the burn, yellow catkins danced on a small hazelnut tree on the opposite side of the water, and Algy knew that soon everything would burst into fresh growth once again.
The little green dragon seemed calmer beside the water, although whether that was owing to the delightfully soporific trickling sound which was always guaranteed to soothe any anxious creature, or simply to the more congenial location, Algy could not tell. But to soothe it even further, he began to recite, in a soft fluffy voice, a long poem which could almost have been written in the Scottish Highlands, but which in fact was the work of an American known as “the Keats of Kentucky”:
Misty are the far-off hills
And misty are the near;
Purple hazes dimly lie
Veiling hill and field and sky,
Marshes where the hylas cry,
Like a myriad bills
Piping, ‘Spring is here!’
A redbird flits,
Then sings and sits
And calls to his mate,
'She is late! she is late!
How long, how long must the woodland wait
For its emerald plumes
And its jewelled blooms?
She is late! she is late!’
Along the stream,
A cloudy gleam,
The pussy-willows, tufted white,
Make of each tree a mighty light;
Pearl and silver and glimmering gray
They tassel the boughs of the willow way;
And as they swing they seem to say,
With mouths of bloom
And warm perfume:
'Awake! awake!
For young Spring’s sake,
O little brown bees in hive and brake!
Awake! awake!
[Algy is reciting the first part of the long poem Catkins by the 19th century American poet Madison Julius Cawein.]
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The next morning the friends went out into the garden together, in search of daffodils.
Most of Algy’s friends had seen these beautiful harbingers of spring many times before, but the little green dragon - who had lived a very sheltered life in the bleak and arid country of Patadragonia and then in the confines of a travelling circus - had not even heard of such flowers, let alone seen them.
The strange little creature was so excited and thrilled by the lovely yellow trumpets that he began to glow in the soft yellow and green colours of spring
p.s. Algy realises that his 10th Tumblr birthday - and his sudden reappearance on this unique occasion - will have taken most of his friends by surprise. So the celebrations of this very special birthday will continue on Algy’s sideblog @lovefromalgytoday.
Please join him on @lovefromalgy, and if you would like Algy to reblog a particular post, please mention @adventuresofalgy or @lovefromalgy, or send Algy a link, or use the submission form.You are all most warmly invited
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All of a sudden there was a rustling and a shuffling and a whispering and a giggling, and the sensation of a wonderfully warm glow which seemed to wrap itself all around him, and Algy, who was just a tiny, wee bit awake already, sat bolt upright with a start of surprise.
“What?… Who?… When?… How?…” he exclaimed…
“Wake up, Algy!” cried his friends, “It’s your birthday! And it’s spring! It’s time to wake up again.”
The animals pressed against him and held out a pretty little bunch of spring flowers. “Happy Birthday, Algy!” they sang. “Happy Birthday!”
Algy was quite overcome. Even his special friend the little green dragon - who he had last seen flying off to join the circus in faraway Patadragonia - was there beside him, warming the assembled company with its magical glow, which was especially welcome on what seemed to be a typical early spring day in the wild west Highlands of Scotland.
“But how can this be?” spluttered Algy. “It was October… I was drifting off to sleep on a dark, damp, dreich autumn day. I couldn’t believe how many months it would be until the spring… I was almost in despair…”
“Feel behind your ear,” whispered the little green dragon.
Algy reached up and felt something strange tucked in among his fluffy feathers. It was the magical cherry blossom which he had brought back from Easter Island the year before.
“When the autumn became unbearable, the cherry blossom put you to sleep,” giggled Algy’s rat friend Twicklewick. “You have been hibernating. Huge storms raged, trees crashed down, the wind howled constantly, rain fell almost all the time, every day was dark and overcast, and you slept through it all, tucked up under the ivy - you lucky fluffy bird! And when the world turned again and it was nearly your birthday, the cherry blossom called us - even the little green dragon, who flew all the way across the ocean to be here today.”
Algy laughed a fluffy bird laugh of joy.
“I can hardly believe it,” he cried. “But it’s wonderful to see you all again. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“Thank the magical cherry blossom,” whispered the little green dragon.
And then all Algy’s friends started singing again.
“Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday you silly old fluffy bird friend,
Happy Birthday to you… Algy! Hooray!”
p.s. This is Algy’s 10th Tumblr birthday - quite an occasion, even though Algy has been absent for a while. So despite the short notice, Algy will be reblogging posts by his friends on his sideblog @lovefromalgy in a party celebration of this special birthday. You are all invited
If you would like Algy to reblog a particular post, please mention @adventuresofalgy or @lovefromalgy, or send Algy a link, or use the submission form.
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