The Pineapple Groves of Speyside
Bounded by dark oak trees, washed with the mossy odour of a damp forest floor, were pineapples growing as casual as you’d like from the damp soil of Speyside.
Short stories about whisky
Bounded by dark oak trees, washed with the mossy odour of a damp forest floor, were pineapples growing as casual as you’d like from the damp soil of Speyside.
There were new smells, fresh smells, a breeze on my nose and so much to explore. The ground was dusty, pale, with small patches of long dry grass, rising and falling as far as I could see. This was a happy place.
It’s a long time to Spring. It always seems to be the case round here. Just a few miles from the sunshine coast, but inland the fog lingers – rolling down the hills and filling up the valleys to meet the steam that rises from the stills.
I suppose long before the transaction and well before hindsight had a chance to kick in, I knew this wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. But it fell into my lap…and I really didn’t feel as if I had much choice.