December
A few weeks ago we had a proper cold snap which lasted for quite a while (now we’re back to torrential rain and howling winds, which wake you in the middle of the night and make you think you’re out at sea). The draughts are rushing gleefully into the house and excitedly meeting one another, criss-crossing and swirling about and making the curtains dance.
I’m hoping for more frost and snow. And stillness.
My favourite beach to visit in winter is Glenbrittle. You head past pine forests towards the Black Cuillins, passing the always busy Fairy Pools, and driving through the flat, open plain until you reach the end of the road. It’s so quiet at this time of year and it’s not unusual to have the whole beach to yourself.
The sand is almost black in places, mirror-like as the tide washes outwards, and you can see out towards the Outer Isles. Joe loves it there, digging and climbing and exploring.
I always tend to walk off alone for a little while with just my thoughts for company. You breathe in the sharp, salty air and … decompress. The sounds of waves crashing has a mesmerising effect.
Driving around Skye, running errands or visiting friends or taking Joe somewhere, the sea is always close by. Sometimes you almost fail to notice it, focusing on where you’re going, listening to the radio and making mental to-do lists. You know the exact location of every pothole within a 15 mile radius, yet you forget to take in the breathtaking views. They can become - literally - just part of the scenery.
But then you do notice again. You see a group of three or four huge birds of prey circling above, or the snow-covered mountain tops and smoking chimneys as you descend into Portree. The rich colours of the landscape. The mercury-like rivers reflecting white, freezing skies.
And you have to get close to the sea. Breathe it in, hear it, observe it.
We often just cross the road from our house, walk down the lane and scramble down to the shore of the sea loch. It’s good for the soul, I know that. But sometimes you need an expanse of wet sand and far-reaching views. That edge of the world feeling. In warm weather my favourite beaches are down on the Sleat peninsula. But in winter, it’s always this one at Glenbrittle.
I’ll write a post about life here in the run-up to Christmas, but even looking at these pictures whilst in the midst of festive activities makes me feel a bit more zen…
