Winter Solstice, late evening, walking home alone from Granny’s Top House.
There are no streetlights here in Coast; my eyes adjust slowly to the dark and the huge starry sky above me. A few lights glow orange in the windows of croft houses. It’s a hard frosty night and it’s catching my breath.
Silence all around apart from my breathing and the crunch of gravel under my feet. The low solstice quarter moon is reflecting off the loch, sparkling diamonds on the sea.
Suddenly, ahead of me, dancing green lights in the sky. The Northern Lights. Wow! What a spectacular show for the shortest day of the year. I’m riveted to the spot, starry-eyed and all agog. Now I’m surrounded by absolute silence as the Aurora Borealis fills me with wonder and magical delight. All sense of nervous anticipation is gone now as I’m entertained on my way home.
The fragrance of warming vanilla, captivated by the sweet spice of cinnamon and the tangy, lively, and magical properties of citrus tangerine oil.