The Old Grey Bools by G Bremner

[Murchiemannie]

If you ever go up North my friends
to a place that I love dear
take a walk out to the Old grey Bools
on a summer's night so clear.

There around a fire we sat
and watched the flames grow bright
and in the ashes we would bake
tatties nabbed from near the farmer's gate.

With the lassgies we'd sit and have some fun
watching for the farmer, ready to run
along by the Trinkie, by the still of the night
in for a swim, if the weather was right.

I'm afraid those days,now they have gone
we all grew up and we all moved on
I wonder now, just who is there left
from our childhood days we all loved best.

[horseman]

Aye Murchiemannie,I just said to my wife-the next time we go up to Wick-we must go to the grey bulls-this summer with any luck.

[Dog-eared]

Nice poem. I know the area very well.
The Grey Bools were flung there from the sea as a tidal wave from a Norwegian undersea landslip at Storegga which decimated the east coast of Scotland many moons ago. The same landslip could happen anytime according to a recent survey. Makes ye think...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Storegga_Slide

[south view 7]

Wis at mertin"s or cairnabie"s tatties.........