Here's a short story for May, for Scotland's Year of Stories. It's one of my favourites from the Isle of Skye, somewhere in the Cuillin mountains...

First heard from storyteller Beverley Bryant at the Scottish International Storytelling Festival a few years ago.

#strathspeystorywalks #yearofstories2022 #isleofskye #skye

Last week I walked part of the Skye Trail to Portree, accompanied by so many stories along the way. The folklore and meanings of places give a totally different perspective on the hills and lochs: they become familiar, places that generations of people have made their own, living and dying there. 

It means you can never be bored, even if the weather is pretty shocking - especially true in this case - as you're figuring out the land, the story places, and marking meaning as you walk. 

​Broadford petrol station
...is actually a fairy knoll. Fairies may be spotted dancing about this little promontory :) 

​Beinn na Caillich
...towers over Broadford. It's an impressive hill, with a sizeable cairn on the top, easy to spot. The cairn is said to be the grave of a Norse princess, who loved and missed Norway and wanted to be buried looking out to sea in the direction of her homeland. The mountain is named for her - though some say it's named for the cailleach Beira, goddess of winter and creator of Scotland, others for 'Saucy Mary', a Norwegian princess who married a MacKinnon and set up a toll for all the passing ships at Kyleakin.

​Tigh nan Druinich
...means the house of the craftsmen, and is underground, somewhere near this quarry at Kilbride - hopefully undisturbed! The house is supposed to be round, built of stone, and very small - the people who lived here were equally small, but extremely skilled. Both St Patrick and St Columba employed them to embroider their vestments. 

​Clach Oscar
...is a very short detour from the road at the head of Loch Slapin. The stone was thrown here by Oscar, one of the famous Fianna giants, when he was in good spirits and testing out the weight of stones before he threw (and created) Soay. 

​Loch Sguabaidh
...was the home of a waterhorse or kelpie for many years. This particular kelpie had a liking for pretty girls - and in fact if a girl was taken and escaped, her reputation as a beauty was assured. Some people think this waterhorse was the beast of the Bealach na Beiste, the pass of the monster, not far above the loch, where a Mackinnon of Strath fought and killed a great beast. 

​Burn of Misfortune
...is the English name for Allt na Dunaiche, on the west side of Loch Slapin near the Blà Bheinn carpark. Here, seven girls and a boy made their way up into the hills near the waterfall to spend the summer at the shieling, or summer farm. 

One evening, the girls went off to a wedding, leaving the young boy alone. To his surprise, in through the door walked seven cats and settled themselves by the fire, all chatting away to each other. They ate all the butter and cream but made it look as if the vessels were still full - and then disappeared into the night. 

When the girls returned, the boy told the tale, but the girls laughed and disbelieved him, pointing to the full buckets of milk and cream. 

The next night, the cats returned, and by dawn, all the girls were dead. Their mothers, arriving that day to fetch the milk and cream, cried out in sorrow, 'Airigh mo dunach' - meaning shieling of my misfortune or woe. 

​Kilmarie graveyard
...is a little haven right by the coast, and apparently on the site of a stone circle. The ruins of the old church are also gone, washed away in a huge storm in the 1920s. A sailor had recently been buried in the graveyard and it was said the sea came in to claim him back. There was a strong belief that the sea will search for her souls, so bodies found at sea should always be buried on the water's edge, in case she should flood the land seeking them. 

​​The Cuillin Hills
How did the Cuillin get their name? There are several theories; here is one.

Many moons ago, Sgiath, the mighty warrior goddess, set about establishing a school in the mountains to teach the art of war (in fact Skye might well be named for her - or the other way round - Eilean Sgitheanach). 

The school became known far and wide, turning out the very finest warriors the world over. 

News of the school and its female instructor who had never lost a battle, reached the ears of Cuchullin (or Cú Chulainn), the mighty warrior in Ireland. He desired to see this or himself, and took three steps from Ulster to Skye, arriving at Sgiath's school in the mountains. She took no notice of the famous warrior, despite his prowess and the speed with which he learned the martial arts. Frustrated, he challenged every single student to a battle, and won every single one. 

At which, Sgiath showed a little interest, and gave permission for him to fight her daughter - quite an honour. Cuchullin and Sgiath's daughter fought "for a day and a night and another day" until he defeated her. 

At which, Sgiath's wrath was swift and mighty. She came down from the mountaintops, and fought Cuchullin for many days and many nights, in the mountains, lochs and sea, but neither gained the upper hand. 

Sgiath's daughter meanwhile was busy collecting hazelnuts - known for gifting wisdom - to make a stuffing for roast deer. She coaxed them to come and eat. Sgiath thought, "The hazels of knowledge will teach me how to overcome Cuchullin."
And Cuchullin thought, "The hazels of knowledge will teach me how to overcome Sgiath.

Actually, the hazels of knowledge taught them that neither would overcome the other, so they made peace and promised one another to come to the other's aid should they ever need it. 

And so, Sgiath presented Cuchullin with a weapon which he would come to be known for - the Firbolg, made by the fairy folk in the mountains - and named these hills after him. 

​The Black Cuillin
...used to be just a wide flat moor, stretching to the sea. Beira held a maiden captive, who she swore would be her prisoner until she washed a brown sheep's fleece until it was white. A rather impossible task! 

It just so happened that Spring was in love with this maiden, and he wanted her free. He had reasoned with Beira, he had argued with Beira, and he had fought with Beira - but she refused to give her up. 

Finally Spring turned to his ally the Sun for help (for where would Spring be without the Sun?). The Sun spotted Beira striding across the moor one day, and flung his spear at her. He missed, and Beira cowered under a holly bush for protection, but the fiery spear scorched a blister into the earth, six miles wide and six miles long. 

For months the earth bubbled and rose, until at least the smoke and the hissing steam cleared to reveal the dark, spiky peaks of the Black Cuillin. Because the mountains were made by the fire of the Sun, the enemy of Beira, the goddess of winter, this is why snow rarely settles on them for long. And what of the maiden? We don't know, but that's how the Black Cuillin came to be! ​

​Glamaig
At her foot, there was a lodge to which the Fianna warriors would return to after hunting 5,000-6,000 deer in a day. 

​Suidh Fhinn
...overlooks Portree. Finn's seat is where this legendary warrior used to sit and bark orders to drive the deer, all the way over in Strath. We must assume he had a very loud voice, and very good eyesight...

​
Note on stories: all stories are based on Otta's book below, but are written in my words. 

References
Otta Swire (1961) Skye: The Island And Its Legends
Geoff Holder (2010) The Guide To Mysterious Skye & Lochalsh
https://www.ainmean-aite.scot/ 
https://www.dwelly.info/

Outlaws, thieves and a president - here's my February story for Scotland's Year of Stories, up Òrd Bàn today in glorious weather!

Featuring Kennapole Hill, the Cats' Den, the Thieves' Road, and Loch Gamhna - all at Rothiemurchus, just south of Aviemore. 

The main story is from 'Guide to Aviemore & Vicinity,' a treasure trove from 1907 by A McConnachie.

This story has unpleasantly familiar 'she asked for it' vibes, symptomatic of the patriarchal society we live in: women must amend their behaviour, dress, etc - or be amended - rather than men amending their behaviour.

(Sorry for the wind noise, and suspect Gaelic. It was all unplanned and off the top of my head! Kennapole actually means head of the pool or pit, whoops.)

I might be in northern England just now but I can't seem to escape 'Highland' history! 

This is the site of the Capon Tree just outside Brampton, near Carlisle. I was curious about the name Capon Tree, did some (online) digging - and bizarrely here unfolds a Jacobite tale!

The monument commemorates six men, all members of Sir Charles Edward Stuart's army, captured in various places around Scotland and northern England in 1746 and thrown into the dungeons of Carlisle Castle. 

They were then "drawn on hurdles up the old highway" to Brampton, up to the Capon Tree, an ancient oak and meeting place, and hung. It was 21 October 1746, less than a year since Bonnie Prince Charlie had been ceremoniously presented with the keys to the city of Carlisle in the centre of Brampton. 

Three were Highlanders, two were Englishmen, one was Irish. Three were Catholic, three were Protestant. Colonel James Innes of Cullen was nearing 70 and had been a highway surveyor in Banffshire. Captain Patrick Lindesay had been "keeper of the wardrobe" at Holyrood to Bonnie Prince Charlie.

The executioner William Stout of Hexham was paid 20 guineas (£2,450 in today's money) for his work that day...

...and there are said to be many spirits and ghouls inhabiting the site of the old Capon Tree, unsurprisingly. 

References: ​-- https://yourphotocard.com/Ascanius/documents/The%20Capon%20Tree,%20Brampton,%20and%20its%20Memories.pdf
-   http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/currency-converter/

It's #FolkloreThursday! Went for a little explore this week in the footsteps of Bigla Comyn, or Matilda Cumming, who had a big old stone 'chair' in Deishar Woods near Boat of Garten. Found a suitably armchair-like stone in the right area, so reckon this was it! She would rest here on her way through the woods to the church at Duthil, which she is said to have founded, and also sat here to collect the rents from her estate. It was apparently also used as a 'loupin'-on stane' to mount horses. 

There's a second stone linked with Bigla in these woods, known for many centuries as Bigla's Key Stane, where she stashed her keys when they got too heavy to carry on her way to church. It was described as being circular with a hole in the middle - possibly a bit like a quernstone. Waded through deep heather to the north of Creag an Fhithich, Raven's Crag, but sadly couldn't find this one! But, given that Bigla lived in either the early 1400s or the mid-1200s, that's not really a surprise... 

There's some confusion over dates probably brought about by two ladies with the same name, centuries apart. Either way, it's a pretty old story.

The motte or fort mound of Tom Pitlac just outside Boat of Garten is named after Bigla - the small rounded hill of Bigla - and otherwise known as Bigla Cumming's Castle. 

Just another (woman) character who made their mark on the Strath, whose traces we still find today. 

It's #FolkloreThursday! In the woods of Kinveachy, between Aviemore, Boat of Garten and Carrbridge, there lives a giant.

He's a wise and wily giant, and, thinking that people may wish to kill him, removed his heart and hid it under a stone in Kinveachy Woods. 

As everyone knows, the only way to kill a giant is to destroy its heart. Now the only way to kill the Kinveachy giant would be if somebody laid their hat, or bonnet, on top of the stone where the heart was hiding. This stone became known as the Bonnet Stone. 

Easy enough! But the giant's heart was also wily, and whenever it saw somebody approach the stone it promptly hopped out to hide under another stone. 

There are many, many stones in the woods of Kinveachy so we can assume that the giant is alive and well to this day! 

Kinveachy means Head of the Birch Wood/Forest in Gaelic.

Not really #FolkloreThursday this week, more folk skills!

About a month ago I ran a Storywalk with some tremendously lovely people, one of whom turned out to be Debbie Zawinski, otherwise known as the Feral Spinner. 

She forages material to spin when out on walks (think bits of sheep wool stuck in fences), and spins it into yarn with a stick - the simplest form of spinning. She then dyes it using foraged material, and knits it into wonderful quirky creations.

Here's an example she showed me at the end of the walk: a knitted pocket dyed with materials such as nettles, yarrow, birch leaves, and various types of bark. There's so much around us which can be used, most of the year! 

During lockdown I set myself up with an outside fire and attempted to dye white cotton strips with dandelion root, dandelion flowers, and dock root - but lacking any decent alums or mordants (turns out they're quite important!) the results are not even worthy of this page. Lots of fun and learning was had however. :)

Debbie's book 'In the footsteps of sheep: tales of a journey through Scotland, walking spinning and knitting socks' is available from a few online knitting shops. ​

Forget Game of Thrones, 'winter is coming.' Beira the Goddess of Winter is coming! 

After Oidhche Shamhna (pronounced oy-cha how-na), Halloween, she begins her reign for the next six months, until Bealtainn at the beginning of May. 

Now, Beira is a cailleach (pronounced cal-yach or kayach), alternatively described as an old woman, wise woman, hag, crone, witch - and creator. 

Beira and her eight sisters lived at the very centre of the earth. Each day they worked tirelessly, hewing and mining rocks from the very centre of the earth, and placing them carefully into woven creel baskets on their backs. When the baskets were full, they made their way out of the centre of the earth, to the ocean. From there, each of the sisters took a different direction and strode off through the waters. 

Beira too, picked a direction and when she grew tired, she stopped and began unloading the rocks from her creel, until it was empty. Now, Beira wielded a mighty magic hammer - a bit like Thor's hammer - and with her hammer began shaping and carving the rocks into glens and mountains, lochs and corries. 

This land that Beira shaped with her hammer became Alba, or Scotland. 

When she completed her work, her woven white plaid which she wore had become quite grubby, so off she strode to the ocean to give it a good wash. She scrubbed it hard, whirling the dark waters around and around, at a place on the West Coast of Scotland we now call Coire Bhreachain, or Corryvreckan, which is one of the largest whirlpools in the world. 

When her plaid was white again, Beira lifted it out of the ocean and laid it carefully to dry across the tops of the mountains. The white lying across the mountain tops signified the coming of winter, and Beira's reign. 

Throughout winter, she takes her place at the highest mountain in Alba, Beinn Nibheis, or Ben Nevis, and from her mountain throne waits, and watches, for the first sign of the coming of her sister Brìde, or Bride, the goddess of summer. 

Always, Beira and Brìde quarrel, and always, Brìde triumphs for a while, and we have summer, while Beira rests, and then Beira triumphs and again we have winter. 

So, when you next look out at the mountain tops - perhaps to the northern corries of the Cairngorms - and there is snow, remember that it's Beira's white plaid and we are all under her reign as goddess of winter until the coming of her sister Brìde at Bealtainn.


A huge thank you to writer and photographer David Lintern, who took the stunning image of Cairngorm with its first winter snow of this year. If you fancy improving your photography skills, he offers bespoke tuition and workshops (with or without wild camping!) around the Cairngorms and beyond. Have a look at his work here.

If you'd like to hear more stories and folktales of Aviemore and the Cairngorms, join an upcoming short guided walk! ​