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Writer's picturecherylmurfin

Winged Reminders


I forget sometimes that nature is the most faithful purveyor of kindness, ease and happy accidents.


Take for example the happy accident of starting our walk on the day we did.


From the moment we stepped on the path two days ago we have been followed by the tell-tale call of a cuckoo bird, which for some strange reason I thought were a fabrication of German clock makers and not actual birds. I have to assume that there are flocks of them out here, but Mary and I chosen to pretend there is just this one, that he’s our personal good omen, and that he’s speaking directly to us. After all, his first call to us on that first day did sound an awful lot like “WEL-come! WEL-come!” And today, as we made the long steep climb up Ben Lomond — at 3,193 feet it’s Scotland’s most southerly mountain — we both heard an encouraging “KEEP-going! KEEP-going!” rising up from our cuckoo’s song and an “OH-ouch! OH-ouch!” as we descended.I should mention there’s a superstition that at the sound of the cuckoo's first call of the year it’s time to turn over the money in your wallet. Literally, turn the dollars in your wallet over to face the other direction. This act is said to bring good fortune and prosperity, especially if the cuckoo's call is to the hearer’s right AND it’s heard on April 28th. BINGO! Mary and I will let you know how our fortuitous hearing pans out.


What? You’ve never heard a cuckoo’s call outside a clock or cartoon? Well, here you go:



Along with our connection with this unusually shy bird, nature returned me today to the ease and wonder of childhood. When I was young I used to love to hunt for butterflies. I would sit for an hour or more in one place just to watch a single one of these winged marvels flutter around from leaf to grass blade to tree to flower. I know now, of course, that butterflies are symbolic of metamorphosis in many cultures. In changing from caterpillar to a delicate airborne creature, the butterfly becomes a metaphor for transformation and hope.


In these last few difficult years I haven’t seen a lot of butterflies. I’ve been stuck worrying about how in the heck humanity is going to pull itself together and pull its collective head out of the sand of our destructive behaviors.


Today, however, I was reminded that I need to look for hope. I need to watch for hope’s gentle whisper all around me. This is the message that rode on the wings of a single white butterfly who traveled with me for about a mile along the path from Drymen to Balmaha. I slowed my pace considerably, pausing to watch it flit on the foliage nearby before moving north just a few steps ahead of me. I was mesmerized. I felt like I was being led forward. I felt its invitation to embrace change — to place my hope in change rather than fear it. You can’t find butterflies unless you look.


Mary takes a rest above Loch Lomond after a good, steep climb.

The path was steep and rocky today.The hike down the mountain was painful, not to mention the sea of people out for a weekend climb and the yappy dachshund that walked near us. Despite these challenges we arrived in Balmaha in high spirits. It was there, as if on schedule, kindness swooped in not once but twice in less than an hour. First she arrived when the hotel manager recognized our fatigue and moved us from a possibly-noisy street-side room to a far quieter loch-side room. And then he came again on the arm of a handsome stranger who ran to our aid after Mary accidentally tripped, pulling our luggage, packs, and sticks across too many pebbles.


Most people are kind. Most people are good. We can undo, redo, change for the better. That’s what I felt watching the butterfly.


So, after Mary and I melted into our requisite post-walk beer and after a short boat ride to the nearby wildlife preserve on Inchcailloch – which translates to the "Isle of the Cowled (Hooded) Woman” in Scottish Gaelic and refers to a sainted nun who once lived on this tiny island – we enjoyed yet another glorious sticky toffee pudding and then climbed into bed, humbled by nature and her million reminders of how to live.


On the Isle of the Cowled Woman.

 

Speaking of dessert. Why not join us on this adventure? Pull out the pans and make your own Sticky Toffee Pudding! Along with our end-of-the-road daily brew, we have committed to saying yes every time we see it on a menu! Here’s the recipe – but you’ll have to Google grams to ounces and milliliters to ounces!

Sticky Toffee Pudding

Recipe by Nigella Lawson at nigella.com

Ingredients

Makes: 9 generous slabs

Metric Cups


For the sponge

  • 200 grams soft dried pitted dates (roughly chopped)

  • 200 milliliters water from a freshly boiled kettle

  • 1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

  • 75 grams soft unsalted butter (plus more for greasing)

  • 2 x 15ml tablespoons black treacle

  • 50 grams dark muscovado sugar

  • 2 large eggs (at room temperature)

  • 150 grams plain flour

  • 2 teaspoons baking powder

For the sauce

  • 150 grams soft unsalted butter

  • 300 grams dark muscovado sugar

  • 1 x 15ml tablespoon black treacle

  • 200 millilitres double cream (plus more to serve)

Method

You will need 1 approx. 23cm / 9-inch square baking dish

  1. Preheat the oven to 180°C/160°C Fan/350°F and lightly grease your dish. Put the chopped dates, boiling water and bicarb into a bowl, give a stir and then leave for 10 minutes.

  2. Cream the butter and black treacle until well mixed, then add the sugar and mix again, beating out any lumps. Beat in an egg and keep beating - scraping down as necessary - until completely incorporated, then do likewise with the other egg. Beating more gently, add the flour and baking powder until you have a smooth, thick batter.

  3. Using a fork, stir the soaked dates, squishing them a bit, then pour the dates and their liquid into the batter and beat gently to mix in.

  4. Pour and scrape into your prepared dish or cake tin and bake in the oven for 30-35 minutes, or until a cake tester comes out clean.

  5. While the pudding's in the oven, you can make the sauce. Melt the butter, muscovado sugar and treacle over a very low heat in a heavy-based saucepan. Once the butter's melted, stir gently until everything else is melted too. Now stir in the cream, then turn up the heat and when it's bubbling and hot, take it off the heat.

  6. As soon as it's out of the oven, prick the cooked sponge pudding all over with a cocktail stick and pour about a quarter of the warm sauce over, easing it to the edges with a spatula so that the sponge is entirely topped with a thick sticky glaze. Put a lid on the remaining sauce in the pan to keep it warm.

  7. Leave for 20-30 minutes, or up to an hour is fine, then take to the table, with the rest of the sauce in a jug, and cream to serve.






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