Mike Scott

OF ALL THE PLACES to establish a spiritual community, one mile from a RAF base seems a trifle ill-conceived: transcendence must require every ounce of self-discipline when the huge fighter planes from Kinloss scorch through the ether overhead. Mike Scott – sitting at the kitchen table of his detached stone house in Findhorn, a beautiful, sandy spot about 25 miles east of Inverness in northern Scotland – claims he rarely even notices, although he occasionally darts outside with his DAT machine to record the jets when they test their mighty engines.