Olivia loved trees and woodlands.  She was of the strong opinion that the world would be a better place if there were more trees in it.

One of the many accomplishments of Olivia's long and interesting life was the successful campaign she mounted to save the trees in the street where she lived in Aberdeen.

She also loved the Scottish Highlands so we felt that this would be both a fitting and an enduring tribute.

All week I’ve tried to hold you

birches aloof aloft silent

limbs of beech trees mirrored in water

shaggy cypress towering in sunlight

rusty brown trunk of ancient sycamore

cluster of tufted ducks

talking among themselves

birds unseen singing

grey geese drifting

beech leaves unfolding

laurel gracing the path

walkers as they pass

murmuring ‘beautiful’

All week I’ve tried to hold you.

A Winter’s Tale

A sudden unfurling,

a springing into life.

You can hardly believe

how fresh, how green you are.

Then glory of summer,

a myriad leaves.

You’re showing off,

this is your time.

It will not last.

You begin to droop,

your leaves are turning brown.

They cling on in vain, fall,

revealing you as you truly are,

as you’ve always been,

stripped, laid bare.

No place to hide.

I flatten my palm against your bark.

The best thing I ever made…

Made friends,

made cakes,

made dresses

made hay

while the sun shone,

made efforts,

made progress,

made mischief,

made love.

Yes, made all of these.

But Sulemin’s pilaff the best of them all -

pieces of lamb

fried with plenty of onions

in plenty of oil,

plump raisins nestling among them,

a shower of pine nuts,

soft grains of rice folded in,

eaten straight from the pan,

with a glass of wine.

Who could resist

Poems by Olivia Farrington writing as Olivia McMahon, 7 November 1933 - 22 December 2025