By Bill Lockhart
You have to want to go to Glenuig. It’s not exactly on a main highway, and frankly it’s even hard to find on a map. Glenuig (Scottish Gaelic: Gleann Ùige) is a small village in Moidart, Lochaber, Highland, on the west coast of Scotland. It is around 30 miles west of Fort William and 20 miles from Ardnamurchan Point.
But visiting there is something I remember vividly.
Sometimes those of us who do photography get wrapped up in stuff. Cameras, lenses, filters, backpacks, and when we have spare time working for hours in photoshop, and then reading more and more and more to try to improve what we do. We forget, I think, to just go; and in the going to enter the world of discovery.
One never knows what is around the corner or what one might find along a deserted road or even in a city. Sometimes we stumble upon enriching moments that we recall and enjoy.
There is a wonderful loch at Glenuig, in fact, it may be one of the most beautiful spots I have visited in my travels. But, despite the beauty of the area, the story I have to tell is about someone I met there. His name is Duncan Sinclair. Here he is:
Duncan Sinclair
Click on Photograph for a larger version.
Duncan was pulling a boat filled with wood he had found floating in the loch, left over stuff from a bonfire that had been celebrated on Guy Fawkes Night (also known as Bonfire Night) which is celebrate on November 5 each year. It is a special day when villages all across Scotland build bonfires and come together remembering some obscure chapter in history. But I digress.
The water in the loch was cold. I mean cold. And, here Duncan was pulling a boat through the water with his wellies filled with that cold water and never once did I see him shiver. It would have killed me! He hailed me from the water and I replied with a loud hello. He proceeded to anchor his boat, giving me a lesson on how to do it right, otherwise the anchor rope would have floated and the boat would have been freed.
Then, he proceeds to tell me about his find. Good lumber that he will use to repair one of his boats. And he pauses to ask for a smoke and then goes on to ask me where I am from. “The USA,” I said. “I know that,” he said, “your accent is not Scottish.” I laughed. So I told him I was from Florida. Then he proceeds to give me a long discourse about weather and how the hurricanes that affect Florida also affect Scotland. “For years we knew that,” he said, “but it wasn’t until satellites confirmed it that most accepted the fact.”
Hum, I thought, this guy is more than I first thought. This really came to light when he discussed in detail the elections in America and how wonderful he thought Obama would be as President. And then he talked about the world’s condition and what Obama might offer to people like himself. And, suddenly I realized that I was speaking with an intellectual, someone who examines his world in great detail. Here he was, someone that most would avoid, a person with a first rate mind. But what made the event so powerful in my mind was that it occurred there at Glenuig, one of the most peaceful and beautiful places on this earth. I think perhaps there is a story there too. For the beauty of this earth must certain affect our ability to see clearly even on a miserable day when the cold curls one’s toes and the wind blisters one’s eyes.
In next 20 minutes or so I learned a great deal from Duncan, it was one of those special times that we encounter that is enriching.
Most tourists never have the opportunity to meet people like Duncan, or I suppose they might be afraid to engage in conversations with some guy who walks out of a Loch drenched in cold rain with his wellies filled with salt water. Too bad. I enjoy meeting people, real people, people who live and work and dream, and more importantly, people who share the same things I do.
Meeting Duncan was a special moment, and I am glad I had my G10 in my coat pocket and that he allowed me to photograph him. I need to do more portraits of real people.
Special moments are rare. One should look for such opportunities.
