Somerled

Kaitie stood in front of the entertainment center thoughtfully studying the amazing technological array of entertainment available at her fingertips. She hated video games. She really wasn’t any good at them and bored quickly. There was nothing showing on TV that was worth the waste of electricity. She’d watched and re-watched all the videotapes and DVDs in her personal stash, not to mention the stack waiting return to the rental company.

“Music” she decided. “It will have to be music.” And she started to flip through the album that held her CDs.

“Beach Boys-too surfy. The Doors & Lynyrd Skynyrd-maybe. Peter, Paul & Mary, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Will Smith, Waylon Jennings, Fiddler On the Roof soundtrack – all no. The 1812 Overture? Definite possibility. Keb’Mo’-mmmmm. Bocelli? Not without a glass of champagne and a lover. Hold it – what’s this?”

She didn’t remember seeing that CD before. It had a map of Scotland on the cover. For some reason she didn’t think it held track after track of screeching bagpipes. It looked more interesting than that. It wasn’t plaid and there were no men in kilts on it. Might better give it a try – if only to fine out that she hated it.

Kaitie popped the CD into the stereo and hit the play button. As the first track queued up, she crossed the room and lay back on the big soft leather couch. She closed her eyes as the first strains of Scotland the Brave came eerily whispering from the speakers. Maybe she’d been wrong and this was full of traditional Scottish bagpipes after all. The muted notes faded further still and then – then came the drums. Tribal drums. Clan Drums. The beat grew in urgency as the volume mounted. Flutes, pipes, guitars joined in. And always, there were the drums. Their beat washed over her in wave after wave. As a haunting voice began to resonate words in her head, Kaitie felt herself surrender to the music-body and soul. Words floated into her consciousness

Through the timeless history,
Fighting for their destiny.
Images fly through my head,
Images of Somerled…Somerled.

Without opening her eyes Kaitie saw HIM. The grandson of Somerled. His name seemed to float to her on a gentle breeze. Donald. This rugged man with wild hair, fierce eyes, a determined set to his jaw and a tartan draped across his chest was Donald. She knew, although she had no idea why, that she was seeing the founder of Clan Donald. And she felt his presence pulling at her, drawing her toward him. New music and lyrics swam into her consciousness

Born of the Isles
Somerled’s child.
Fearless and brave
From birth to the grave.
Clan Donald. Clan Donald
Live on beloved one.
Live on my warrior son.

Then HE was there again. Her noble Scotsman. That was how she thought of him now-as ‘her’ Scotsman. His aura was that of power tinged with sorrow. His powerful shoulders were slumped from bearing the weight of leadership in turbulent times. She felt his thoughts. The arduous balancing of politics and religion. The affliction of caring for so many. The distaste of having to lead men in war against their brothers. And his pride… his compelling, fierce pride. Again the music and the words shifted.

Look for the questions
and the reasons why
Look to the people look to the sky
Look to the books look for the names
Look for the pride
that flows in your veins.

Kaitie wanted to go to this man and wrap her arms around him. She wanted to sit down with him there on that hilltop where he stood and have him lay his head down in her lap. She would stroke his head and run her fingers through his hair while murmuring gentle words that would soothe the fires burning within him. She KNEW him. She knew which words to say to pull the tension from his muscles and give some solace to his mind. As she reached for him, music and words again came to the forefront.

Life be like
the joy and sorrow
Peace, enjoyment, love and sorrow.
One fond kiss
and then we sever.
One farewell,
alas forever.

Hot tears burned down Kaitie’s cheeks as she saw her rugged Scotsman stride away deep into the Highlands. Her heart ached for him and she wanted to rush after him – yet she was tied to her present and could not follow. But she held him within her and now that she had evoked that memory, he would never be far away from her again. She drifted off into a dreamless sleep as the last words and notes from the CD played out

Over the ages and over the sea,
Back to a time in reality
History and music and poetry
Survive this timeless society
So I cry out to this land
Of ancient smiles
to the hearts and minds
The songs and rhymes
And all that made
The Lordship of the Isles

*Lyrics from the Somerled album by Steve MacDonald.