Freedom

A big name to put on a small boat. Someone's idea of freedom is to put to sea - or to a loch, at least. 'To escape what?', you can't help but wonder. The Zoom call, the garden, responsibility, anxiety, conflict?

Freedom as an abstract concept is a slippery beast, and I can't really get a hold of it unless I add "from..." to it. I can understand freedom form oppression or freedom from hunger or freedom from fear. Then it becomes more obvious that my idea of freedom might conflict with yours. I want freedom from constraints on my behaviour. You want freedom from the noise and pollution that my choices foist upon you

On a chilly, windy day, a small corner of the loch is sheltered and calm. The low light creates a pretty (and pretty clichéd) reflection of the church tower, that you know you have to stop and photograph. A glance the other way and there is a reflection of sky and what should be an exquisite little dinghy with a varnished mast, catching the evening light. Instead there is a rather neglected tub - perhaps here for pleasure but perhaps a worktool. And on the side, almost lost beneath the grime, its name provokes a train of thought that (in better hands) has filled political philosophy books. To much weight for one blip to carry

We walked into the wind blowing cold across the loch, we found standing stones unmoved by our puny philosophising, we watched eagles circling over a distant ridge. To us, it felt like some kind of freedom