Fatherland

Rolf Rae-Hansen

When thinking of Scotland I imagine my father, not some generic paternal entity but specifically my old man. It's an easy analogy, this land is where I am from, a country like my father in many ways: a nation that is strong yet not afraid to show its emotion and aware (perhaps too aware) of its weaknesses; a place that is kind yet canny; a land that is aglow but has its hidden darkness, pains it deals with in secret; a place industrious yet alive with intellect and the colour of creativity.

My father passed away five years ago but, like the Scottish landscape, he is always with me, alive in the hills, whispering through the wind, dancing upon the branch with birdsong. When calling up memories of my father it's the early days I recall most keenly, one in particular that is the figurehead for all my days in Scotland, all my days with my father, a day glowing like sunken treasure on the ocean floor. ... (continues)