Scottish Nature

Annie Worsley is a Professor of Environmental Change. A few years ago, she took the plunge and moved to the remote North West Highlands of Scotland. It is a land of unquenchable spirit and severe wildness. In the Highlands, life is ruled by the great elemental forces – light, wind and water hold sway over how land forms, where the sea sits, and what grows. It also dictates how its people live. Annie returns to prehistory to tell the epic story of the Scotland Highlands.

In this journey of self-discovery, Sam Heughan sets out along the West Highland Way to explore his heritage and reflect on the personal waypoints that define him. The result is a love letter to the wild Scottish landscape that means so much to Sam, and a charming, funny, wise and searching insight to the world through his eyes. Waypoints is a deeply personal journey that reveals as much to Sam about himself as it does to his audience.

I can move only with the aid of barrels of anti-inflammatory gel, sticking plasters, and real ale anesthetic. Martin and I descend from hours of walking to the small town of Middleton-in-Teesdale. I walk, stiff-legged, into the campsite office, and a plump, middle-aged woman looks up from her desk and can see the old timer is in trouble.

This audiobook looks at 12 works written by Robert Burns which were inspired by nature. We look at the works themselves, give a modern translation of each one and look at when, where, and, possibly, why they were written. This gives you quick, easy to understand information about Burns - so that you can surprise your friends with your 'in-depth knowledge.'

In Sightlines, Kathleen Jamie reports from the field - from her native Scottish "byways and hills" to the frigid Arctic in 14 enthralling essays. She dissects whatever her gaze falls upon - vistas of cells beneath a hospital microscope, orcas rounding a headland, the aurora borealis lighting up the frozen sea. In so doing, she questions what, exactly, constitutes "nature", and upends the idea that it is always picturesque. Written with precision, subtlety, and wry humor, Sightlines urges the listener: "Keep looking, even when there's nothing much to see."

Holy Water is an examination of the sacred nature of water in the Scottish Highlands and Islands through the lens of history, archaeology, and folklore, with the overall intent to answer the question: What is the sacred nature of water in the Scottish Highlands and Islands, and in what way does it express itself in Highland cultural society and history?

Once upon a time there was a very beautiful doll's-house; it was red brick with white windows, and it had real muslin curtains and a front door and a chimney. One morning Lucinda and Jane had gone out for a drive in the doll's perambulator. There was no one in the nursery, and it was very quiet. Presently there was a little scuffling, scratching noise in a corner near the fire-place, where there was a hole under the skirting-board.

When Benjamin Bunny grew up, he married his Cousin Flopsy. They had a large family, and they were very improvident and cheerful. I do not remember the separate names of their children; they were generally called the Flopsy Bunnies.

Once upon a time there was a pussycat called Ribby, who invited a little dog called Duchess to tea.

Once upon a time there were three little kittens, and their names were Mittens, Tom Kitten, and Moppet. They had dear little fur coats of their own; and they tumbled about the doorstep and played in the dust. But one day their mother - Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit - expected friends to tea; so she fetched the kittens indoors, to wash and dress them, before the fine company arrived.

In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets - when gentlemen wore ruffles and gold laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta - there lived a tailor in Gloucester. He sat in the window of a little shop in Westgate Street, cross legged on a table, from morning till dark. All day long while the light lasted he sewed and snippeted, piecing out his satin and pompadour and lutestring; stuffs had strange names and were very expensive in the days of the tailor of Gloucester.