In Easgann Wood
Robin Robertson, 18 February 2016
“... abandoned me. Listen. I will tell you both. No birds fly over Coille nan Easgann, the sacrificial wood; no animals stray there, only the insects and worms can make use of it. The first was that daftie, Doogie McRae: moon-struck, wanting a feather in the wing. I found him hunkered in the ruined church; dust round his mouth, from eating moths again. As we ... ”