St. Barr's Church

The morning before I left Barra, I deposited my luggage at the airport where the waitress at the cafe said she'd keep an eye on them. (Don't try THAT at home!) I walked to the enclave of Eoligharry, just north of the dunes that separate the the Atlantic side (weird having the Atlantic on the west coast!) from the eastern side, which is called The Minch. There are homes in Eoligharry, each with a view of the turquoise water, the Isle of Eriksay and the many uninhabited islands.

This area's claim to fame is St. Barr's Church, named for St. Finnbarr of Cork (A.D.550-623). There are only ruins there now. The chapel itself has only crumbled and crumbling walls, one with a hole/window (photo).

What seemed most alive was the graveyard that surrounded the ruins. There were many Celtic crosses from the 20th century in various states: some shiny new, some lichen-covered, some fallen. Other monuments surprised me, and maybe you will be surprised, too, by the Pooh bear and the honey pot.

All the stones faced properly East, not every which way that they do at the Glasgow Necropolis where the hill and the current aesthetic takes precedence over ancient Christian tradition. Among the epitaphs I appreciated are these:

"Be Thine own hand on the rudder,

Thine own hand, King of the Elements."

"Lord of the calm and of the storm,

Whatever seas I sail upon

Be Thou my helm,

my compass and my port."