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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Black darkness came down on the wood of Creag Dubh, and there was I lost in the middle of it, picking my way among the trees. Fir and oak are in the wood. In the oak I could walk straight with my chin in the air, facing anything to come; in the fir the little branches scratched at my neck and eyes, and I had to crouch low and go carefully. "I had been at a wedding in the farm-house of Leacann.
"When one goes up from the Leacann hunting road into the farm-lands he comes in a while on a space among the trees, clean shorn like the shearing of a hook but for white hay that lies there thick and rustling in the spring of the year. Under my feet the rotting dust of the fir-trees felt soft and clogging, like the banks of new-delved graves.
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