Picture This: Secrets on Argyll’s Secret Coast

On the shores of Loch Fyne, beside the mouldering, ivy-grown stones of Old Castle Lachlan, deep in Argyll’s Secret Coast, there was a moment of complete union. When the winds ripped apart the clouds and drove down rain from the sun. When the light ricocheted off the skin of the sea and the waves crawled upon the stones like a finger upon the lips. In this easy intersection of the autumn elements the rainbow bridge arced across the heavens. Is there a less obvious rosetta stone than an immaterial beam of light?

On the first day of the Celtic New Year the spirit world and our world overlap. Perhaps I heard the brownie of Old Castle Lachlan sweeping away my confusion or the waterhorses of Loch Fyne neighing truths beneath the waves. Standing on the castle bridge, mouth parted and neck craning, I watched this beam of light striate into colors that make all other colors. How simple and true how one makes all and all make one. Mother Nature implores us to see our nature in hers. And even as the clouds slid back across the blue and the loch turned hard as beaten steel, I did. I do. Thank you spirits, for nothing can ever be the same.