Inverewe Revisited
20 September 1989
I've always been drawn to seek out the ultimate origins of things. In my own case, I try to think back through a series of events to find out when I first did something, where I did it, and why. A thought process like this can lead to surprising discoveries, like how one's path in life can turn in a completely unexpected direction based on a totally mundane and trivial choice we might make. For example, I've had the entire course of my own life change, in one instance, simply by walking down one random aisle in an unfamiliar drug store, in another, turning on my television on a sudden whim at one particular instant with it already set to one particular channel, and in the present case, picking up an ordinary book in a gift shop almost without thinking about it, thumbing through it, deciding to buy it, and having my whole future altered as a result.
That said, I can attest with all sincerity and honesty that I would not be who, what or where I am now, or lived the life I ended up living, if I had not bought this one book at Inverewe Garden in Scotland in September of 1974.
So, on this day, 30 years ago, I decided to return to Inverewe, simply to stand on the same spot where I bought that book 15 years previously, and contemplate my own experience with how a seemingly insignificant event produced monumental changes in my personal existence.
My enthusiasm for going to Inverewe today was the polar opposite of my attitude on September 4, 1974. In fact, on that trip, I was totally ambivalent about going to the UK with my mother at all. I had spent the first two months of my summer vacation between freshman and sophomore years in college in full wastrel mode: smoking pot and hash around the clock, drinking beer and scotch at night (which Mother graciously would buy for me upon request), while listening to Zappa or playing pinball under the influence at the bowling alley, and now, Mom wanted to eat up almost the whole last month of my stoned summer and go to England where I wouldn't have any pot or any of my music at all. *huff* *pout* On top of that, I'd managed to give myself a hernia at work the day before we left on our trip, and that made my general temperament even worse.
Then, in Scotland, Mother wanted to waste still more time by going to some remote place on the far northwest coast of Scotland where someone had planted a stupid garden over a hundred years ago. Great. Just what I always wanted to do. *sigh* I really was an insufferable brat back then. What a difference 15 years had made. Now I couldn't wait to visit Inverewe again!
My intended route for the day's road trip was as follows: from Letterfearn to Torridon and Kinlochewe via the A896, north to Inverewe via the A832, then head north on the A835 to Ullapool. Finally, returning east again and back down south via the A832 and A890 via Achnasheen to Loch Duich and home.
First stop on my way north, though, was to snap a quick photo of Eilean Donan castle, which had been featured in one of my favorite movies at the time: 'Highlander'. That movie aside, this was already one of the most famous view points in all of Scotland. I remembered it well from past visits to this area, and definitely wanted to get a nice picture of it this time.
Eilean Donan Castle, Dornie, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo ©J Scott Shannon.
There was lots of amazing scenery along the way north, but unfortunately, it was a very rainy day and clouds shrouded the mountains, so although I took quite a few pictures, only a couple turned out to be worthwhile, like this one (actually two photos stitched together).
Loch Maree from view point south of Poolewe, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo ©J Scott Shannon.
Although I was not aware of it at the time I took this panorama, it turned out Mother and I had our picture taken together at this exact spot 15 years previously. Just look at my contemptuous body language here; turning my back on my mom like that. She looks truly brokenhearted. Breaks my own heart to look at this now (and deservedly so). All she wanted was to take me on a vacation and have a nice time, and this was how I treated her almost the whole trip. What a little shit. I really didn't deserve you, Mom...
Not much further up the road was Inverewe.
I arrived at 1340, had a quick lunch at the café, then headed out to the garden.
Turned out Inverewe back in 1974 wasn't as boring as I thought it would be. I was actually quite impressed to see that such a wide variety of temperate and tropical plants thrived here so far north. It was all thanks to the Gulf Stream, whose warm currents kept temperatures clement on this once-barren peninsula. The garden was meticulously cared for, as well. I don't remember now how long we stayed, but it was at least a couple of hours. As you can see, it was sunny that day, though it must have been cold and threatening rain as I am wearing my black overcoat.
Yours Truly at Inverewe, 4 September 1974.
Before we left in 1974, we visited the Information Centre at the entrance to the park. In 1989, pictured below, it looked exactly the same on the outside as then.
Photos above and below by J Scott Shannon.
Inside, though, I saw that things had been significantly rearranged. The book and gift shop used to be in this open area in the foreground; in 1989, the books/gifts now occupied the alcove in the far rear.
If the grey-haired docent you see here in the navy blue jacket and skirt were to take one step forward, she would be standing precisely where I was standing when I found David Stephen's book. I wonder if anyone noticed when I, myself, stood there now, and pantomimed reaching out, picking up an invisible book in front of me, opening it, and staring down as I thumbed through it...
So, what exactly was in that book that so changed my life in the months and years yet to come?
It was my first introduction to a group of animals called the Mustelidae - the weasel family - as represented by the beautiful snow-white ermine on the front cover. Badgers became my favorite animals because of that book, then not long after, it was otters, and, well, one thing led to another, and everything just took off for me from there. Upon returning to school, I became a biology major with a specialization in animal behavior, and my path was set for life.
However, it wasn't simply the book's raw subject matter that inspired me. It was the illustrations. The photographs by themselves were wonderful, but it was actually the drawings that most caught my fancy. The artist (uncredited; presumably the author himself) drew the various creatures in an overall realistic style, but the facial expressions, in particular, had an alluring, almost human-like spark to them - an attentive gleam in an eye, a slightly upturned mouth akin to a smile - just little touches like that that added a suggestion of personality to the animal it depicted. Just a minute or so browsing a few of those drawings in that gift shop, and I simply had to have this book.
I wish I could share some of those illustrations with you, but I would have to break the spine of my book to scan them, and I won't do that. Despite the foxing on the cover, I've kept this little volume in pristine condition all these years; its only wear and tear being a dark band on the right edge where my thumb has passed over it hundreds of times over nearly a half-century now.
Unfortunately, because of the wind and rain, I got to spend even less time in the gardens at Inverewe in 1989 than I had in 1974, which was a real shame. But, at 1500, with my pilgrimage now duly completed, it was time to hit the road once again.
Just a few short miles after leaving Inverewe, I came upon this grand vista.
Little Loch Broom, near Badcaul, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo ©J Scott Shannon.
My next intended stop was Ullapool, where we had stayed overnight back in '74. Up to that point, Ullapool was the farthest north that I'd ever been (57°53'53.35"N, according to Google Earth), and I wanted to drive at least up to 58°N if I could. Unfortunately, when I got to the turnoff, I decided I probably wasn't going to have time to go to Ullapool if I wanted to complete the rest of my drive in the daylight. I did get a nice picture of the valley where Ullapool is situated, though. I hadn't remembered it being this pretty before.
Corrieshalloch Gorge, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo by J Scott Shannon.
As it happened, my drive back to Loch Duich took much less time than I thought, so I would have had time to go to Ullapool, after all. But, oh well, I was more than satisfied with how the day had turned out. And tomorrow, my birthday, I was sure would be even better!
I've always been drawn to seek out the ultimate origins of things. In my own case, I try to think back through a series of events to find out when I first did something, where I did it, and why. A thought process like this can lead to surprising discoveries, like how one's path in life can turn in a completely unexpected direction based on a totally mundane and trivial choice we might make. For example, I've had the entire course of my own life change, in one instance, simply by walking down one random aisle in an unfamiliar drug store, in another, turning on my television on a sudden whim at one particular instant with it already set to one particular channel, and in the present case, picking up an ordinary book in a gift shop almost without thinking about it, thumbing through it, deciding to buy it, and having my whole future altered as a result.
That said, I can attest with all sincerity and honesty that I would not be who, what or where I am now, or lived the life I ended up living, if I had not bought this one book at Inverewe Garden in Scotland in September of 1974.
So, on this day, 30 years ago, I decided to return to Inverewe, simply to stand on the same spot where I bought that book 15 years previously, and contemplate my own experience with how a seemingly insignificant event produced monumental changes in my personal existence.
My enthusiasm for going to Inverewe today was the polar opposite of my attitude on September 4, 1974. In fact, on that trip, I was totally ambivalent about going to the UK with my mother at all. I had spent the first two months of my summer vacation between freshman and sophomore years in college in full wastrel mode: smoking pot and hash around the clock, drinking beer and scotch at night (which Mother graciously would buy for me upon request), while listening to Zappa or playing pinball under the influence at the bowling alley, and now, Mom wanted to eat up almost the whole last month of my stoned summer and go to England where I wouldn't have any pot or any of my music at all. *huff* *pout* On top of that, I'd managed to give myself a hernia at work the day before we left on our trip, and that made my general temperament even worse.
Then, in Scotland, Mother wanted to waste still more time by going to some remote place on the far northwest coast of Scotland where someone had planted a stupid garden over a hundred years ago. Great. Just what I always wanted to do. *sigh* I really was an insufferable brat back then. What a difference 15 years had made. Now I couldn't wait to visit Inverewe again!
My intended route for the day's road trip was as follows: from Letterfearn to Torridon and Kinlochewe via the A896, north to Inverewe via the A832, then head north on the A835 to Ullapool. Finally, returning east again and back down south via the A832 and A890 via Achnasheen to Loch Duich and home.
First stop on my way north, though, was to snap a quick photo of Eilean Donan castle, which had been featured in one of my favorite movies at the time: 'Highlander'. That movie aside, this was already one of the most famous view points in all of Scotland. I remembered it well from past visits to this area, and definitely wanted to get a nice picture of it this time.
Eilean Donan Castle, Dornie, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo ©J Scott Shannon.
There was lots of amazing scenery along the way north, but unfortunately, it was a very rainy day and clouds shrouded the mountains, so although I took quite a few pictures, only a couple turned out to be worthwhile, like this one (actually two photos stitched together).
Loch Maree from view point south of Poolewe, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo ©J Scott Shannon.
Although I was not aware of it at the time I took this panorama, it turned out Mother and I had our picture taken together at this exact spot 15 years previously. Just look at my contemptuous body language here; turning my back on my mom like that. She looks truly brokenhearted. Breaks my own heart to look at this now (and deservedly so). All she wanted was to take me on a vacation and have a nice time, and this was how I treated her almost the whole trip. What a little shit. I really didn't deserve you, Mom...
Not much further up the road was Inverewe.
I arrived at 1340, had a quick lunch at the café, then headed out to the garden.
Turned out Inverewe back in 1974 wasn't as boring as I thought it would be. I was actually quite impressed to see that such a wide variety of temperate and tropical plants thrived here so far north. It was all thanks to the Gulf Stream, whose warm currents kept temperatures clement on this once-barren peninsula. The garden was meticulously cared for, as well. I don't remember now how long we stayed, but it was at least a couple of hours. As you can see, it was sunny that day, though it must have been cold and threatening rain as I am wearing my black overcoat.
Yours Truly at Inverewe, 4 September 1974.
Before we left in 1974, we visited the Information Centre at the entrance to the park. In 1989, pictured below, it looked exactly the same on the outside as then.
Photos above and below by J Scott Shannon.
Inside, though, I saw that things had been significantly rearranged. The book and gift shop used to be in this open area in the foreground; in 1989, the books/gifts now occupied the alcove in the far rear.
If the grey-haired docent you see here in the navy blue jacket and skirt were to take one step forward, she would be standing precisely where I was standing when I found David Stephen's book. I wonder if anyone noticed when I, myself, stood there now, and pantomimed reaching out, picking up an invisible book in front of me, opening it, and staring down as I thumbed through it...
So, what exactly was in that book that so changed my life in the months and years yet to come?
It was my first introduction to a group of animals called the Mustelidae - the weasel family - as represented by the beautiful snow-white ermine on the front cover. Badgers became my favorite animals because of that book, then not long after, it was otters, and, well, one thing led to another, and everything just took off for me from there. Upon returning to school, I became a biology major with a specialization in animal behavior, and my path was set for life.
However, it wasn't simply the book's raw subject matter that inspired me. It was the illustrations. The photographs by themselves were wonderful, but it was actually the drawings that most caught my fancy. The artist (uncredited; presumably the author himself) drew the various creatures in an overall realistic style, but the facial expressions, in particular, had an alluring, almost human-like spark to them - an attentive gleam in an eye, a slightly upturned mouth akin to a smile - just little touches like that that added a suggestion of personality to the animal it depicted. Just a minute or so browsing a few of those drawings in that gift shop, and I simply had to have this book.
I wish I could share some of those illustrations with you, but I would have to break the spine of my book to scan them, and I won't do that. Despite the foxing on the cover, I've kept this little volume in pristine condition all these years; its only wear and tear being a dark band on the right edge where my thumb has passed over it hundreds of times over nearly a half-century now.
Unfortunately, because of the wind and rain, I got to spend even less time in the gardens at Inverewe in 1989 than I had in 1974, which was a real shame. But, at 1500, with my pilgrimage now duly completed, it was time to hit the road once again.
Just a few short miles after leaving Inverewe, I came upon this grand vista.
Little Loch Broom, near Badcaul, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo ©J Scott Shannon.
My next intended stop was Ullapool, where we had stayed overnight back in '74. Up to that point, Ullapool was the farthest north that I'd ever been (57°53'53.35"N, according to Google Earth), and I wanted to drive at least up to 58°N if I could. Unfortunately, when I got to the turnoff, I decided I probably wasn't going to have time to go to Ullapool if I wanted to complete the rest of my drive in the daylight. I did get a nice picture of the valley where Ullapool is situated, though. I hadn't remembered it being this pretty before.
Corrieshalloch Gorge, Highland, Scotland, 20 September 1989. The view today. Photo by J Scott Shannon.
As it happened, my drive back to Loch Duich took much less time than I thought, so I would have had time to go to Ullapool, after all. But, oh well, I was more than satisfied with how the day had turned out. And tomorrow, my birthday, I was sure would be even better!