Skip to main content

A mixed bag of weather

On 1st May last year the whole of the area shown in the photo below was burnt and blackened by a wild fire, which swept across a huge acreage.  Within a few days of the fire green shoots began to appear, and now, one year later, the whole area is covered in the finest strands of straw-like stems from the grasses which emerged from the charred landscape.  
The day dawned wet and windy.  Before breakfast, the dogs and I had a very soggy and muddy walk through the outer gardens of Colonsay House.  (Still magical, even when drippy).  By late morning the strong wind had blown the rain across to the mainland and we had some sunshine and the opportunity for a longer walk.  We walked along the road towards Scalasaig.  No cars as the island is very quiet at the moment - the lull before the storm of the Spring Festival which is due to kick off next weekend.  Then we cut in down this track, to walk back round to the cottage.
This delicious little clump of violets have a real room with a view, about five feet up near the top of the dry stone wall!  
The climate on this island encourages a multitude of mosses and also different types of liverworts, which grow on the bark of trees.  I don't think they are as attractive as the mosses, but intriguing lifeforms nevertheless.
Later in the afternoon, with the weather closing in again, my cousin and I ventured down on to one of the island's raised beaches, which sit up above the sand.  They are formed of millions of smooth pebbles and boulders.  A geologist's delight!


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Coastal walk from Gullane to North Berwick

By the time I have walked about four miles, my toes are screaming at me - it's the arthritis, you see.  One of the joys of being that little bit older than I was.  However, for a long time, I have been keen to walk along the beaches, and follow the coastal path, between Gullane and North Berwick. So, having worked out the tide times, I decided today was the day, and off we went.
Below is our starting point, the bay at Gullane.  It's a lovely beach, very popular with dog walkers. This is looking east, the direction Tilly and I were going to take.
Looking back, up the Forth, the unmistakable bulk of Arthur's Seat, and Edinburgh's skyline, just clear enough to see.
For most of the walk, there is the choice between wandering along a series of beaches, or following a path along the top of each.
There's no denying it, at heart I am a shell-seeker.  I have loads of shells at home.  We lived on one of the out islands in the Bahamas for a just over a year, a long time ago, and …

A vase on Bonfire Night Monday

I have another vase of wild flowers this week.  It wasn't my intention, but as I was out walking the dogs on Sunday afternoon I passed billowing masses of a delicate pink cruciferae (which I can't find a specific name for) growing next to a pile of logs.
Growing alongside were two or three plants of golden yellow corn sow-thistle.  It was a beautiful sight, and there was my vase!  The cruciferae, which has a flower just like rocket, also has the most fabulous seed pod.  It is positively exotic and reminds me of Aladdin's shoes, with very long pointy toes. The lovely sunny face in the photo below is a good old dandelion.  I love dandelions.  I love their rich yellow flowers and the complex and beautiful seed head.  Who hasn't blown a dandelion dock to find out what time it is?  And you can eat the leaves in a salad!



Long gone garden

Ihad about 23,000 photos on iPhoto, which, not surprisingly, has been slowing my MacBook down!  Over the past weeks, I have been having a massive cull and in the process siphoned off favourite photographs, and also I have been on a trip down memory lane.  There is one group of photos I am compelled to post here because for me they form a glorious record of my long gone and much lamented garden, at our previous house.  I have a tiny garden now, which I am enjoying, but in our last garden there was room for lots of joy.   

Regrettably, where there were tulips and fritillaries in the long grass, there is now hardstanding for cars, and I heard yesterday that my beloved lavender hedge has now been taken out, which is the final nail in the coffin of a place bees once loved to visit.  I am not sure that a static row of box balls is going to quite cut it with the pollinators.  I used to count up to one hundred bees, of various types, along the spires of lavender when it was in bloom.