"…a thin place where only tissue paper separates the material from the spiritual." ~ George MacLeod, founder of the Iona community, describing this holy isle

A smaller passenger ferry…

map source:  www.sandymckay.com

 transports visitors to the wee island of Iona west of Mull,

unless you are one of its 177 residents 
allowed to drive their vehicles on and off the island.

During the Early Middle Ages
 a monastery is believed to have been built in 563... 

by an exiled monk from Ireland…

Columba, or Colm Cille.

Iona survived multiple Viking attacks with its Celtic crosses still in tact…

and continued its spiritual history when the abbey was built in 1203, 

until its destruction during the Scottish Reformation 
when the Duke of Argyll gifted the ruins to the Church of Scotland.
Services are still held in the Abbey.

 A few years after the abbey, a convent for Benedictine nuns was built in 1208…

 and its ruins still remain.

A small portion of the Bishops House, 
believed to have been built in the 1630's is located north of the abbey.

This unique community has been flourishing since 1938

when George MacLeod led a concerted effort to rebuild the abbey.

Over the years, Iona, has been and is today…

"a dispersed Christian ecumenical community working for peace and social justice, 

rebuilding of community and the renewal of worship." 
iona.org.uk 

A beautiful, peaceful island 
where people have lived and visited and worshiped for many centuries.

  
  

"Every summer has a story…" ~ unknown

Across the pond,

Labor Day is a book-end to summer,

where crisp linen outfits and white shoes know the time has arrived

to be stored away until Easter.

Here in Scotland,

 the end of summer is subtle as the daylight hours 

grow shorter day by day, 

and the ubiquitous fields of harvested hay…

wait for use during the approaching autumn and winter days.

Meanwhile, after a whirlwind summer.

there is much to tell,

however, 

I do believe I will begin at the end.

Ren Man and I just returned from a weekend road trip to...

 the west coast of Scotland, 

where we wandered about Oban…

and spent the night at the lovely Manor House Hotel, 

a Georgian villa built in 1780 for the Duke of Argyll.

Overlooking the Oban harbour…

our breakfast view was only a teaser before sensory overload…

 as we boarded the ferry...

and headed to the Isle of Mull…

where its mouth opened wide and spit us out.

Only the clouds changed as often as the scenery.

Single lane roads give you the feel of being the only visitors 

until of course you end up behind a tour bus, 

although drivers are very considerate 

and pull over at the designated 'passing places' when necessary.

I do believe we came very close to exploring all 338 square miles of this Inner Hebrides isle...

as we breezed through villages…

and walked along the crystal clear waters 

of Calgary Beach...

where we were NOT tempted at all to take a dip.

Boats turn up in the most creative ways.

More on Mull in the coming days.