Ww2 Fearnana Refuge In The Storm

A Memory of Fearnan.

A hush lies over Fearnan now except for the songbirds.  No cockerels greet the morning. The once abundant fields are barren; many of the cottages are used only for vacations and are shuttered in winter.   The 100 year-old Stewart family dynasty at Tigh-an-Loan hotel has ended and the village shop, no longer profitable, is closing its doors.  The school and playground lie deserted, and the children’s laughter —and tears— has faded into the mists of time.  

Although my physical relationship with Fearnan ended long ago, the close spiritual bond has lasted a lifetime.   This historic highland village not only provided a refuge during those stormy years, it invoked a sense of mystery, and yielded a kaleidoscope of vivid memories:  Even today it is not difficult to visualize the village life as it was then, and when I close my eyes, just for a moment I believe I can see the white- capped waves on the loch and hear the children’s voices carried on the wind as they tumble from the schoolhouse at the end of the day: Wee Billy and Andy, Margaret, Mary and Isabel, Archibald, Jim,  Donald,  Elizabeth, Dochie,  Jenny, the Grindleys ...

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