Dig deep and prepare to be entranced by Caithness

Wick artist Lisa Weller, originally from Brighton, moved to the county three years ago after giving up her career as an IT project manager to follow her passion for painting. She loves nature and here focuses on why Caithness offers plenty of inspiration.

LET me introduce you to this man, George Carter. To me he is everything good about Caithness. In fact, for a while he was Caithness.

George’s handsome lined face tells a story and his eyes reflect a bright, shining heart. He is hardy, hospitable and loves a dram... and a blether.

George used to take me out in his boat from Lybster Harbour. Being a retired captian he knows the sea, and knows the area.

I think it was on these adventures that my eyes were awakened to the true beauty of Caithness. We would glide up and down the coast, never ambling too far from the immense craggy cliffs that fall dramatically into the sea. In the summer we would turn off the engine and stop at the bottom of the cliffs. The sound of thousands of seabirds nesting was deafening.

We would sit silently and watch a puffin launch itself into flight from the sea; saunter past seal pups, white and fluffy, eyeing us curiously.

George would point out local landmarks like the "Tinker’s Cove" at Forse, which was used as a smugglers’ den, and waterfalls that cascade from above into the sea.

George taught me how to haul lobster (or sometimes not!) and how to cook and pick fresh crab. We’d catch fresh mackerel with a simple line and then eat it later for tea.

He showed me his smokehouse, which he still uses today, and my freezer was always well stocked with our fresh catch.

George would talk and tell me stories, perhaps of characters like Maggie Donn, who used to own the Bayview Hotel, and I would soak in his rugged, strong, quiet manner; a serenity exuding from his pores.

Hardly surprising in a landscape where the skies seem to stretch for eternity in the vast expanses of peat land.

We would go on adventures too, just the dog and I, searching for mermaids’ caverns or retracing the steps of figures of folklore into ruined castle remnants.

We’d go on a Pictish trail, unearthing burial chambers and standing stones. I’d go, camera in hand, exploring old, derelict buildings, imaging the lives of the people once living in this ancient land.

Every deserted beach has a different feel and a unique appeal. Peedie Sands, lying at the foot of Dunnet Head, takes a short, sharp climb to get to but is well worth it for the view across Dunnet Bay.

How about the beach at Duncansby that I call Seal Beach? How could I not after spending an entire evening there, sitting, watching and being watched by 70 seals just off the shore?

Every few miles tell the history of the herring boom that happened nearly 200 years ago, when thousands of people came to cash in. Deserted harbours scar the landscape as do the castles that draw you in and envelop you in legend.

And still there’s so much yet to do and places to return to again and again – every day telling a different story and each moment providing a different painting.

And if someone chooses to say to me, "there’s not much up there", when referring to John O’Groats and the general area, I’ll invite them to dig deeper, scratch under the surface and be prepared to be entranced.

Find out more about Lisa’s work online at www.havenhouseart.com

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