As we exiles return to our "other" homes
maybe even cross the sea
our thoughts and constant memories
are of dear Caithness and thee.
as we join the daily rush hour
and wait at the traffic light
we know it's our wages we toil for
takes us back to our land of delight
we do not envy your happiness
or love of the cold clear air
we only hope, you never change
and aye keep our bonny land fair.
by Isobel Salmon Looking back at Caithness
