Through Salt and Storm

Twilight drifted over Portree Harbour in November 1887. Fiona Campbell held an Apostle Spoon of St Andrew — Scotland’s own saint — as she stirred cocoa by the fire. Her love, Ewan, had been gone to sea three months, his letters slow as the tide. That evening, a knock came at the door — him, weathered and windburned, holding a single shell and her name on his lips. They drank together from chipped mugs, the spoon resting between them like a benediction. When it was later forged into a ring, it shone faintly with Skye’s twilight, a circle of love that had found its way home through salt and storm.