Skip to main content

I will arise and go now

..... and go to Colonsay.

Hooray!  We've made it to the Inner Hebridean island of Colonsay again.  Our ferry journey on Wednesday was cancelled because of high seas, but we had a good crossing on Thursday, and although our holiday here will be six days instead of seven, it is blissful to be back in this wonderful place.

I am sure W B Yeats won't mind me pinching a little of his gentle poem 'The Lake Isle of Innisfree".  The spirit of the poem echoes this place.  I think he would have enjoyed the island as much as we do, and frankly, little change will have taken place since his day and ours.


And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

This is the joy of being here.  Peace.  Birdsong, the sound of water and the waves.  Yesterday we had sunshine, and today has dawned fair.  The weather forecast then becomes a little iffy, but we are here, and that's all that matters to me!

Starting with the locals, who came over here originally with the Spanish Armada! Slightly out of focus but I was a bit over excited to see them on the wooded slope opposite our cottage!  Ten of them, but they didn't stay long.
Red myrtles in the magical, overgrown outer gardens of Colonsay House.
For aficionados of the BBC Shipping Forecast!
Grey lag geese, coming in to land.
Kiloran Beach.  One of the best!
So good to be back!


Comments

  1. It looks so amazing. So much blue, including the sky. Very lucky you and so deserving. Have heaps of fun xx

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

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.