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Changing Places: Milena Widdowson on the Isle of Bute



Whenever I need a moment of stillness, a place in my mind to retreat to, I think of Bute. The moments that changed me there were gentle, beautiful, nourishing. Understated almost. They wove me into a feeling of connectedness, of mindfulness that I thought I had lost touch with forever. I realised a senses list would be perfect for this post, as this particular adventure was indeed an awakening of my senses:

I listened to the rhythmic lapping of the waves, whispering their affinity, reaching out to my heartbeat.

I listened to leaves rustling mischievously in the woodland, age old stories housed by ancient trees. The cheerful palms flapping in contrast, chattering in the breeze.

I listened to the forthright chimes of a grandfather clock, keeping a time only known to itself.


I inhaled rich tendrils of delicious provision at a welcoming smiddy, creating sighs of contented anticipation.

I inhaled the clear headiness of the air. Life infusing.

I inhaled a deep, earthy vitality after glistening rain.


I connected with spirited rose quartz, delightfully peppering a stretch of pebbled coast.

I connected with the aged, rough surfaces of the standing stones. I ran my fingers delicately along the crevices, decorated with cool, spiralling moss.

I connected with Oscar, an adventurous feline soul, his fur as wild as his nature.


I relished home made honeycomb ice cream, its creamy intensity wrapping itself heavenly around my tongue.

I relished an inviting, honeyed glow of island brewed mead, with generous refills to truly appreciate its power.

I relished the delicate salty edge to each breath.


I drank in the quirky light of crystal embedded stained glass windows, which enveloped me so completely that I felt this must be what it is to be inside a rainbow.

I drank in weathered boats, each one a character, leant up against crumbling harbour walls. They were like old friends settling in for an evening of mirth.

I drank in an eerie, dilapidated pier, a perfect spot for solitude.



Milena’s roots lie in both Germany and England – her current home.  Online, she shares her lovely, lyrical writing, her photographs and artwork at Dreamchair Adventures.

Changing Places is a guest post series about the power of place to change us.  You'll find other stories in this series here.  If you’d like to share your own story, please contact me for submission details.

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