Both nam Faileas (The Hut of the Shadows) Lochmaddy.

Rising from the rocks, a cairn
Built from the bedrock of the sea
A resting place fit for
A Viking king or a Celtic warrior,
Its stone walls defying the storms,
Throwing back the cold white spray
And the ringing thunder of the deep;
Its roof of turf catches the sea wind
Rattling the grasses and the ragwort.
A low doorway to another world
Opens on a passage winding inwards
Leading to a sanctuary of darkness
At once full of primordial whispers
And the shadows of the dancer:
A chorus of wild cries,
The whistle of the otter;
The mew of the gulls;
Seals sliding through the waves;
A choir of whale song -
All are present here,
As waves and racing sky lap the inside wall
As if landscapes ooze from the very stones
Like old stories:
Then the Sirens’ call,
The shadows drum your beating heart
Until you wish to feel the other wind
Caressing your face in welcome embrace.

Both nam, Faileas built by sculptor Chris Drury.