Maev MacFarlane, a resident of North Carolina in the States, was driving through her favourite little town of Bulloch located thirty-five miles north of Glasgow situated on the extreme southern end of Loch Lomond. Her MacFarlane ancestors once lived in this very area, having moved East/North East from the Loch Linne area. Like so many Scots in the days of Rob Roy MacGregor, the early 18th century, whose family lived beyond the mountain Ben Lomond to the East many of her ancestors thieved cattle to make a living and survive, cattle in Scottish being called coos.
This trip back to her homeland, actually homelands since Maev (May + ve) was of both Irish and Scottish ancestry, was her Christmas gift to herself, one she had been awaiting with great anticipation.
Maev's plane landed at Glasgow International Airport where she rented a small blue, compact car with manual shift that she, of course, had to shift with her left hand since the steering wheel was located on the right side. This was due to the face that one drives on the left side of the road that many in the States call driving on "the wrong side of the road." However, to Maev's way of thinking driving on the left side of the road was correct for those throughout Ireland and the United Kingdom of Scotland, Wales, and England, and she had no difficulty with it.
It was a very cold, overcast day when Maev left the airport and headed north towards Bulloch. She was driving on A 82 on her way to Glencoe Village that is located in the Scottish Highlands in the northwest end of the glen on the southern bank of the River Coe as it enters Loch Leven, a saltwater arm of Loch Linnie.
Glencoe Village was situated in Glencoe Valley near the site of the reputed, dastardly massacre of the MacDonald clan by the Clan Campbell who murdered them in their sleep under orders given by the Commander of Fort William. The village is surrounded by spectacular mountain scenery that in winter is covered with snow and ice, making travel quite different if not dangerous at times.
Maev knew this, but she was a free spirit who pressed the envelope many times throughout her life be it in climbing mountains alone, breaking a climber's cardinal rule not to climb alone; canoeing white water; hiking through deserts that are home to rattle snakes, Gila monsters, scorpions, peccary/wild pigs, and many kinds of cacti; into and out of the Grand Canyon in eight hours, bringing on the first stages of hypothermia; or sailing.
Thus, when it began to snow, Maev didn't give much thought to it even though it was quickly accumulating on the roads and surrounding landscape, making driving difficult with visibility no more than 100 feet in front of her; although, fortunately there weren't many on the road.
To make matters worse her car rental had all-season tires on it, but it didn't have snow tires nor did it have chains in the boot. So with the little traffic on the road, Maev was basically alone out in this horrible snowstorm that in an hour of so went from just covering the two-lane road to about a foot of the white stuff, and Maev could barely see where she was going. She knew she was headed in the right direction towards Glencoe Village that was to be her first stop on her trip where she had reservations in one of the quality bed and breakfast establishments, Callart B &B, a five star accommodation.
Maev was going to stay in Glencoe to do some relaxing while reading and writing poetry since she loved words. Words were power to Maev, especially in poetry since each word needed to add to the meaning of the whole poem, especially if there was rhyme. Weather permitting she also planned to do some hiking and even mountain climbing if feasible.
Unfortunately, the winter weather had other plans for Maev, plans she never expected nor anticipated. The snowstorm was pilling up the white stuff very quickly, now making it both difficult to see as well as to drive. The snow was coming down so heavily and the strong northwest wind was causing it to swirl around her that it was close to being a whiteout, and she was still about twenty-five miles from Glencoe Village as best she could make out from having seen the last mileage sign which read 40 Kilometers.
In these horrendous conditions Maev was down to a crawl on the snowy road, and she strained her eyes to see as she watched the wipers move quickly back and forth across the windscreen. She was looking for and hoping she might find any shelter from the storm, especially a private home. However, Maev thought that would be just too damn lucky for such a thing to happen.
"More than likely," Maev thought, "I'm going to be stranded out here on the side of the road all alone in this freezing cold, but at least I packed alot of warm clothes, especially my 100%, all-natural wool sweater and winter hiking gear. So I won't freeze to death."
That thought just having passed through her mind Maev thought she was seeing a mirage. She thought she saw the outline of a house up ahead on her right, but she wasn't sure. However, with high hopes Maev drove slowly until she saw a lovely whitewashed, thatched-roof cottage; although, the thatch was just about covered completely with a blanket of thick snow. It was mainly the shape of the gabled roof with the broom-like cut ends of the thatch letting her know what it was, and as she drove into the driveway, she saw a green door and shutters.
Snow covered the walkway to the door, and drifts of snow lay in the southeast corners of the windows since the storm was coming out of the west/northwest from which most of the storms came...off the North Atlantic.
Maev stopped the auto in front of the cottage and looked around, noticing smoke rising into the frosty, snow-blown air that disappeared to the east with the wind, letting her know there was an inviting fireplace inside and someone was home. However, what she didn't know was who was on the inside of the cottage: man, men...woman, women...or family. However, in her predicament Maev knew she had no choice; she had to see if she could seek shelter in the cottage.
From her own sailing experiences, it reminded her of the old sailor's adage: "Any port when caught in a storm."
Thus, Maev turned off the engine, grabbed her backpack in which she had her purse, got out of the car, closing the door behind her, and trudged through the ankle-high deep snow up to the front door, knocked, and waited.
Since it was a small cottage, it didn't take long before the door opened, and there standing in front of Mave was a lone woman who had a woolen shawl draped over her head and across her shoulders to ward off the cold she knew was out there in the howling snowstorm.
Before Maev had a chance to explain her predicament, the woman, seeing Maeve to be a lone woman already coated with snow, reached out a hand, grabbed Maev by her arm, and gently pulled her inside her cottage, closing the door behind her to keep the cold and snow outside.
Maev was shocked by the suddenness of the women's actions but not afraid. She understood the woman didn't want to stand there with the door wide open to the inclement elements while she explained her plight and let the heat escape.
Despite the snow clinging to Maev's long, reddish-blonde and clothing, the woman saw how beautiful she was and seemed no threat to her. She saw Maev for who she was, a stranded, lone female, caught in one of Glencoe's nasty snowstorms.
On her part, the woman dropped her woolen shawl from her head and wrapped it around her shoulders, the ends hanging down past her waist.
Expecting at best to find either a single, old woman or an old married couple, the person standing before her was a beautiful, young woman in her mid-twenties.
Her hair was blonde, eyes blue, lovely lips, and fair skin. Since she was all bundled up, she had no idea what her body was like, but even beneath her shawl and clothing, that consisted of a neutral, long-sleeve wool sweater and sweat pants, she could tell she was youthfully well-built.
The young girl smiled warmly at Maev and said while chuckling softly, "My gracious, girl, what 'r' ya doin' out in such a snow storm as this? Ya must be daft?"
Maev smiled back at her and chuckled, "Well, I tell you true, it's not by choice. I checked the weather before heading from Glasgow International Airport having come over from the States. When I left the weather was gloomy but not threatening. If it had turned bad by the time I made it to Bulloch, I'd have stayed there 'till it blew over."
"Ah, that would have made sense, but since you're here, give me your garments to hang up, and let's get you over to the fire place where there's a warm, peat fire. And, by the way, my name is Becky. You?" asked Becky warmly and casually.
"My name is Maev, and I'd love to sit by the fire. I love the smell of beat burning. It smells so earthy," Maev answered as she removed her garments and handed them to Becky.
"Good to meet you, Maev. Take off your shoes and go sit," invited Becky as she hung Maev's coat and tartan tam on hooks near the door.
Maev needed no encouragement. She went over and sat down on the sofa that was situated in front of the fireplace, and there was a carpet in front but far enough away from the grated screen to protect it while Becky hung up Maev's coat and cap before joining her, sitting down in a cushion sofa chair so they could look at one another.
"Now, Maev. Just where were you headed when you got caught in the blizzard and ended up here on my doorstep at my wee cottage?" asked Becky.
"I was headed for Glencoe Village where I have a confirmed room at Callart B & B," answered Maev.
"Good choice. The Callart B & B is considered one of the best and loveliest. Unfortunately, it's about 40 kilometers up the road where you turn off to the right and have to drive up to the northwest end of the glen," Becky said, "so I guess you'll be spending the night here with me which I have to admit I rather look forward to it since I don't have many visitors living out her in the Highlands."
Maev sighed deeply, "I'm just so glad I found your lovely cottage and am safe from the storm for which I thank you, Becky."
Becky smiled, intently holding Maev's stare, and smiled acquiescingly. "Oh, Maev, it's my pleasure to have your company.
"So, let me make us some tea and we can talk, and then later I'll make us some supper,"
"Oh, that sounds lovely, but only if you let me help you," added Maev, wanting to demonstrate her thanks for Becky's hospitality, "and, oh, I need to call the B & B and tell them I'll not be coming. I'm sure they'll already know why. I have my cell phone."
Becky shook her head yes and went to the kitchen area to put on the water and set a serving tray that included a plate with Walker's butter cookies, a traditional Scottish treat.
While Becky was busy, Maev stretched out her legs, pointing her feet towards the fireplace to get warm. By that time Becky returned and set down a small table with the tea and biscuits between the sofa and sofa chair. She then poured two cups of tea, steam rising from cups.
Becky asked, "Milk? Sugar?"
"No thanks. Just plain," Maev said.
Becky poured the tea and handed Maev a cup, took hers, and sat down. Once seated comfortably across from one another, Becky and Maev talked about this and that as they shared with one another facts about their lives, both feeling very at ease with the other that led them to be open enough for them talk about subjects of an intimate nature.
Knowing they were snug and secure from the winter blizzard howling outside and sitting toasty-warm in front of the fireplace with the orange, yellow embers of the burning peat aglow on the grate, gave both Becky and Maev a sense of safety and the enjoyment of not being alone on such a horrible, but oft' winter conditions in the Highlands, night.
Both grew to have the feeling that they had known one another for a long time. So much so no subject seemed to be intrusive into their personal lives. Their feeling was both open and friendly.
"Becky, I'm so glad I found your lovely cottage for two reasons: To find shelter from the storm as well as finding out what a lovely Scottish Colleen you are. You're a life-saver," Maev said quite openly.
