"I remember it as if it was yestarday.
My papa took me to see the ancentral home of our clan.
The desoldate castle on Dismal Downs,  abandoned since the 17th centry,
Now inhabited by no-one but golden eagles in it's turrets and
Ptarmigan & grouse in the heather o'the clan cemetery.
In this sight of former glory, of ochre grass and bracken,
Sadness and hope, this is where I begin my story.
Rannoch moor, 1877, the eve of my 10th birthday..."

Tha'n sgeul ag aiseig bu bràth
Toirt taic bho tiotain a tha gar deanamh mar a tha sinn.

Howls on the moor
Dreams of sailling all seans
Call of the hills
And a fiddle of farewell