The Driftwood Rule
If you plan to go beachcombing, a word about a local custom. It’s not a law, as such, but you’ll cause severe offence if you break the rule that says you can only pick up driftwood and other flotsam if it’s lying below the highest tide mark. Anything ‘laid up on da [the] green’, as they say, has been put there by someone else and they’ll be back for it some day so please leave it alone. Considering the value of driftwood in a largely treeless archipelago, the fact that this rule is universally observed says something about the honesty of the islanders. — Shetland.org
There’s a BBC crime serial on Netflix by name of Shetland, and it’s making me dream again on that part of the world. That nature. Those people. The stark beauty. The ever-present wind, the sun, and the rain. It reminds me much of the beach in Fanor, Co Clare in the Burren at Rockyview Farmhouse. The people and the things they consider customary that strangers like meself find endearing and fascinating. Just now, “The Driftwood Rule”.
I never wanted to leave Ireland. Never wanted to leave the northern coast, or the Arran Islands, which Shetland puts me in mind of. Really, any part of Ireland excepting the industrialized agriculture areas of Northern Ireland. It’s lovely to be able to immerse myself for a brief period of time while watching.