For years I yearned to visit Shetland; a mystical, ancient place with roots as old as granite and nature at its fiercest best. Setting off in the car for Aberdeen and bundling inside two spaniels, books, wet weather gear, cameras and a sketchbook, last October we caught the 13 hour ferry to Lerwick and arrived as the silver sun broke through the slate dawn sky and danced on the waves.
Tonight as I dart paint across the surface, I evoke the sense of place and transport myself back to that land of rock, sea and immense skies and I find myself reading the wonderfully evocative poetry of Roseanne Watt. And I hope she doesn’t mind me using the Shetland word “Lomm” as there is no other word that fits the shaft of light upon the sea as beautifully as that.
“Lomm”
Shetland Nocturne
Diving into a wonderful glossary on the Shetland dialect from 1914 by James Stout Angus I’m overjoyed to read in the introduction that the aim was to help preserve what remained of the Old Norn language spoken in the nineteenth century. I expected to dip in and quickly leave, but this wondrous book of 180 pages is not merely a list of words but descriptions of a way of life anchored deeply in the sea.
Meet “Bregdi”, a sea monster that has a habit of chasing boats at sea but who does not like cold steel. Or “Dim” the summer night between dayset and daybreak in midsummer between 11:00 pm and 1:00 am which is a time of anxious expectancy.
“Bir’Tik”; a sea name for fire
Shetland sunset
As I immerse myself in this language, my mind leaps to paint its words and my hand strives to keep up.