Morag : A suicide in a beauty spot

Morag's story

About a month ago I posted a story about a mountain sprite I called Tom. Now I will tell you Morag's story. This took place near Sheildag, Loch Torridon. Sheildag is a very pretty one street village perched on the edge of the most beautiful Loch in the Western Highlands of Scotland. Main street looks out onto Sheildag Island and the Loch. The majesty of the mountains beyond is truly magnificent, and once you have seen this small corner of Scotland you wish to return from time to time regardless of the rotten weather, just so that you can feast your eyes on its beauty.


Morag's story About a month ago I posted a story about a mountain sprite I called Tom. Now I will tell you Morag's story. This took place near Sheildag, Loch Torridon. Sheildag is a very pretty one street village perched on the edge of the most beautiful Loch in the Western Highlands of Scotland. Main street looks out onto Sheildag Island and the Loch. The majesty of the mountains beyond is truly magnificent, and once you have seen this small corner of Scotland you wish to return from time to time regardless of the rotten weather, just so that you can feast your eyes on its beauty.

My family (myself, Martin and daughter Tamsin), Tamsin's boyfriend at that time Michael, Martin's brother Frank and his girlfriend Caroline were all staying in a croft in the village of Sheildag. Martin, Frank and Michael were using it as a base for climbing the local Munro's (Scottish mountains over 3000 feet). On one of the days when Frank had taken Caroline off on a walking trip, Martin, Tamsin and Michael decided to climb some rock faces above the town on the main road between Torridon and the Applecross Peninsula. I do not like rock faces but I went along anyway. I thought I would just sit on a rock and enjoy the magnificent view.
Once they were happy belaying themselves and clambering up the Lewisian Gniess, I wandered off and scrambled up a less vertical face to perch on the headland. I was sitting there, minding my own business, when I began to feel very dizzy, and felt that I had to hold tight to the rocks or I would fall off. I rationalised all this, knowing that I was safe. So I tuned out of the here and now and into my psychic self, listening with my inner ear.
I discovered that I was with a local teenage girl. I started talking to her to find out her story. She told me her name was Morag and she had died here. She had thrown herself off this rock because she had become pregnant by a local lad and he would not marry her. This had been some time ago, perhaps 90 or more years ago (I felt that there was a Victorian or Edwardian feel to the story she was telling me). She was fairly distraught about her story, that she felt that she could not go away from the spot because she had committed two sins, first the sin of getting pregnant, then the sin of killing herself. I talked to her and tried to soothe her, explaining that they were not sins, but very sad experiences and that she needed to forgive herself and the man that got her into the mess. Jesus (She was a Christian) had forgiven her a long time ago. She listened to me as she was tired of feeling lonely, stuck on the rock; however, she did not feel ready to try to go into the light so I invited her to return with me, firstly to the croft, and when we left Sheildag for home, she could come back with me to England. Morag took me up on the offer. She did return to the croft, enjoying the village she had lived in before her death. She also came back to Surrey in England with us when we went home. After a while she told me that she was grateful for all my help, but she needed to see her mountains again and chose to return. Next time I go to Loch Torridon I will check up on Morag's rock to see if she is still there, or if she has moved onto the light having seen her beloved mountains once again. C Judy Farncombe 1998
Click fish to return to main index page	GHOST INDEX PAGE