Welcome to the place in the sky that is for intents and purposes a wee home for my storytelling and creative writing work. For those of you that wish to bide a while, I hope you take some nourishment in the form of my stories, strange though they may be. For those that would like to book a session, workshop or a course knock at my door. I thank you kindly, for I love nothing better than honouring the old traditions of Scotland to keep them alive by spinning stories 'eye to eye, mind to mind and heart to heart'. 

The aged Beira was fearsome to look upon. She had only one eye, but the sight of it was keen and sharp as ice and as swift as the mackerel of the ocean. Her complexion was a dull, dark blue, and this is how she sang about it:

Why is my face so dark, so dark?

So dark, oho! so dark, ohee!

Out in all weathers I wander alone

In the mire, in the cold, ah me!

Her teeth were red as rust, and her locks, which lay heavily on her shoulders, were white as an aspen covered with hoar-frost. On her head she wore a spotted mutch. All her clothing was grey, and she was never seen without her great dun-coloured shawl, which was drawn closely round her shoulders.” Mackenzie, D.M (1917) Wonder Tales of from Scottish Myth and Legend


Rowan doesn't just tell you a story. She leads you straight into the heart and soul of it. She transports you to a magical land, and when you return, reluctantly, you will feel as if you have​ just emerged from a time machine, still tasting the Scottish salt air on your tongue”. (Jane Burns)