The bar is unfamiliar. The crowd is older and quieter than I’m used to. They occupy booths and tables in the dim light that hides age and secrets, while I opt for the extra elbow room and more sobering light at the bar. I take the corner spot closest to…

monday On the train from Edinburgh to Inverness the view was quick to shift from medieval city to farmlands to the rugged, rich cliffs of the Highlands. About fourteen miles east in Beauly sat a restored croft house devoted to writers. At the top of a hill, it was nestled between…