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Showing posts from April, 2018

Leaving it all behind

So that's it then!  All over in a twinkle.  We are home again.  Admittedly our week's holiday was one day shorter than it should have been, but I feel as though it only lasted for little longer than a weekend!  But it was good, and worth the year long wait! As we pulled away from the jetty at Scalasaig the island became enveloped in a huge rainstorm.  We sailed away in sunshine, with a few raindrops as we headed for a brief stop at Port Askaig, on Islay.  Our route home had been re-routed and we returned via Kennacraig on the Mull of Kintyre.  Amazing scenery from the moment we left Colonsay until we drove past the southern tip of Loch Lomond.  Scotland is a very beautiful country. A last lingering look at Colonsay, and then the distinctive and mysterious profile of Jura loomed on the port side of the ferry.   I gazed longingly at a ferry going back out towards Colonsay!   Jura, as it disappeared into the distance. We had a brilliant few days on Colonsay

Seals, sand and sea shells

My cousin and I walked to the beaches of Ardskenish at lunchtime today. It offered the usual delicious cocktail of sand, waves, seashells, seals, fresh air and the desire to be nowhere else. Here is the reason the beaches are so free from plastic and other rubbish.  The dedication and energy of the locals, keeping their island's principal asset clean and beautiful. A couple of oyster catchers leaving their footprints in the sand. And back to the car, across Colonsay's golf course! We go home tomorrow.  The day has arrived all too soon.  But good news!  The plan is to come back again in October for the island's food and drink festival.  Can't wait.

Cuckoos and corncrakes

The dogs and I had another delightful early morning walk, starting with a wander through the outer gardens of Colonsay House, with the sound of the cuckoo echoing through the woodlands.   Some distance from the track, with their feet planted amongst a green sea of wild garlic and amidst a plantation of conifers, I spied what I assume to be old Victorian posts for the washing lines, where the drying green for the big house must have been.   This is the bark of a beech tree.  There must be something in the air here which affects the colouration of tree bark.  I noticed the same red colouration on some sycamores the day before yesterday. I stood here and listened to the cuckoo, not far away, and the grating call of the elusive corncrake, amongst the cacophony of early morning birdsong.  Bliss. Some early bluebells.  Spring is coming, but slowly.  All good things come to those who wait though!! Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

Murky Monday

Not such a great day, weather wise, today, but we have still managed a good walk to one of the raised beaches on the northern coast of Colonsay.  We have had spits and spots of rain, heavy rain, smearny rain, weak glimmers of sunshine and cold air all day.   Early morning walk :   Walk from Kiloran to the raised beach : An ancient ancient gorse bush which looks like something from Middle Earth. Below, can you see a distinguished profile of a man who looks as though he is a player in a Shakespearean drama! In the distance, very faintly, we could see the isle of Mull. The raised beach The product of a wet afternoon, spent fiddling about with strands of willow, birch, bramble and honeysuckle, then finished off with the skeleton leaves of magnolia.  Not exactly a masterpiece, and a real struggle because I didn't know what I was doing, but I managed to fashion a sort of something! By nine o'clock this evening the strong winds had blown the rain