Chì mi an Cuilitheann mar leòmhann gun tioma,
Le fheusaig den t-sneachd’ air a phasgadh ma cheann;
‘S a ghruaidhean a’ srùladh le easanan smùideach,
Tha tuiteam nan lùban gu ùrlar nan gleann.
’S tric a bhios na briathran iongantach seo aig Niall MacLeòid a tighinn nam inntinn nuair a chì mi buaidh droch aimsir air na monaidhean. Nach b’ uabhasach neart agus cuthach na stoirme Babet, agus nach brònach mar a chaill cuid am beatha, agus an cron a dh’fhuiling a liuthad coimhearsnachd feadh na Rìoghachd. Gun teagamh thug eòlaichean aimsire rabhaidhean gu leòr gun robh fìor dhroch thìde a’ tighinn, agus bha iad cuideachd air chomas comharrachadh far am bu mhiosa a bhuaileadh e. Ach fiù ’s le comhairle ro-làimh saoilidh mi gun robh buaidh na gaillinn ann an cuid de sgìrean na bu mhiosa na ris a bha dùil, agus nach bochd an suidheachadh aig na ceudan a chunnaic an dachannan fo uisge gu ìre ’s nach fhaigh iad air ais annta airson ùine mhòr. Shiubhail sinne tuath bho Phàislig Disathairne seo chaidh is an aimsir a’ sìor dhol bhuaithe mar a b’ fhaide tuath a chaidh sinn, agus bha feasgar fliuch da-rìribh ann an Inbhir Nis! Ach dhearbh madainn bhrèagha ghrianach na Sàbaid lèirsinn an t-seanfhacail a tha ag ràdh “cho caochlaideach ris an aimsir”, agus bha turas socair againn air ais gu deas air adhbhar dleastanais eile. Ged a bha Babet air imeachd air falbh dh’fhàg i bratach sneachda air na mullaich ach bha snuadh a’ gheamhraidh a’ coimhead iomchaidh gu leòr aig an àm den bhliadhna.
Ach bha seallaidhean duilich eile ann nach robh idir taitneach, agus a bha nan adhbhar truais! Raointean fhathast fo thuiltean agus ceudan de phasgain feòir air am milleadh, dùin de dh’fheadhainn cheàrnach nan seasamh ann an lòintean, agus ficheadan de phasgain chruinne air an sguabadh an ear ’s an iar far na dh’fhàg an tuil iad. Chan urrainn gum bheil dad nas tàmailtiche fhaicinn na saothair chuideigin air a sgrios ann an leithid de dhòigh, agus fiù ’s ged a bhiodh cuidhteachadh aig tuathanaich cha dèan sin ath-dhìoladh air iomlanachd na h-obrach a chaidh a dholaidh. Chan eil gnìomhachas anns nach bi uallach, agus tinneas-inntinn ri linn, ach tha teisteanas àraid aig obair-àiteachais air a leithid agus tuigear a’ bhuille dhuilich a bheir an call biadh sprèidhe seo air tuathanaich, agus air na croitearan a dh’fheumas prìsean nas àirde fhulang air a sgàth.
Tha mi a’ sgrìobhadh seo is Oidhche Shamhna an impis a bhith oirnn, agus ’s dòcha gur nàdarra dhomh cuimhneachadh air mar a bhitheamaid a’ tadhal thaighean a’ bhaile air Samhain, le aghaidhean-coimheach ma b’ fhìor a’ falach co sinn! An-diugh, mar iomadh pàirt de ar eachdraidh tha Oidhche Shamhna fo bhuaidh mhargaidhean bathair de gach seòrsa agus clann gan èideadh ann an trusgain is aghaidhean-coimheach oillteil, agus fortain gan cosg airson spòrs nach mair ach beagan uairean a thìde! Ach nach math an togail sunnd a bheir gàire beag!
I see the Cullin like a fearless lion,
With a beard of snow encircling its head;
Its cheeks furrowed by foaming waterfalls,
Falling and twisting to the glens below!
This is a English translation of some lines from the famous Gaelic poem, Fàilte don Eilean Sgìtheanach (Salute to the Isle of Skye) by the Glendale Bard Neil Macleod. They often come to my mind when I see the impact of severe weather in Highland glens. My sympathy to those who suffered family tragedies, and devastating material losses, at the mercy of Babet. Despite ample advance warning from the Met Office the ultimate storm damage appears to have been perhaps worse than anticipated.
Travelling north last Saturday we experienced progressively worsening conditions and heavier rain but making the return journey on Sunday the truth of the proverb “changeable as the weather” was reconfirmed! Babet had moved on but left a wintery “beard of snow” on the mountains, a fine seasonal view on a sunny day which made it difficult to imagine the conditions of the previous few days!
There were also some dismal and depressing sights evidencing the storm which had traversed this part of Scotland with such aggression. Flooded farm fields with hard won hay bales semi-submerged, and others scattered hither and thither as the floods left them! How depressing to have so much hard work destroyed – and insurance compensation will never entirely recompense so much wasted effort. Further increased costs for farmers and crofters, and without doubt serious mental stress for many in the agricultural industry.
As I write Hallowe’en is almost on us and while many will recall childhood escapades we might note with some cynicism how this season has also been hijacked by the voracious commercial marketing of big business. Having said that however, a little “trick or treat” entertainment and laughter must be good for the soul!