Sea change
Up until recently, we kept shifting between stormy weather and days of heat and intense sunshine. But summer is well and truly over now. I’m currently sitting in a gloomy house - outside, MacLeod’s Tables are shrouded in mist and drizzle - and last night was a sleepless one as the wind howled relentlessly through the trees and about the eaves. I eventually nodded off, only to wake up again with a pounding headache which is refusing to shift.
We’ve had frost, too. A cold snap which has blackened some of the flowers in the garden but has hopefully seen off the last of the midges. And I ran out with my camera just before school to get some pictures because I can never resist.
Last week I took a solitary walk after one of those frosty nights. I dropped Joe at school and went to Orbost farm, parked the car then headed down to Bharcasaig beach. The track down there is a fearsome one if you’re driving - the puddles are huge and deep, and it’s a narrow lane with a steep drop to one side. So better to walk (in waterproof boots).
It was a pale, cold morning with watercolour skies and a chill in the air. And the sound of running water everywhere, especially passing the beach and heading up into the forest.
The path had turned into a stream in places, so there was a lot of dodging and hopping and tiptoeing. But that’s OK as it keeps things interesting.
The tide was in, so I bypassed the shore and went straight up into the pines. Lots of signs of autumn despite the evergreens: spider webs and blackberries, and goldfinches feasting on thistle seeds.
And water droplets sparkling everywhere. There’s always something magical about pine forests, but when the trees and ferns look like Nature has decorated them for Christmas… sigh.
It’s very important for me to get out alone like this, where my thoughts can be given free rein to wander. I find myself thinking about small things that come into my mind: nothing of too much consequence. It’s good to just notice small details in the here and now, to stop and explore a bit then keep walking. I find it very inspiring. It’s like your mind’s taking a little walk of its own too. Thoughts appear, are turned over and considered for a moment, then are let go again.
At the weekend we stayed close to home, but went to Roag beach for the first time. It was quiet. Windy again (but I love being out on a windy day) and we walked around the little, stony bay and up onto the hill so we could look out across the water towards the Cuillins.
Joe found lots of bones and skulls, and an urchin shell. Sadly, there was a washed up baby seal too, still white and fluffy and perfect-looking but the birds had taken its eyes. A lovely man whose house overlooked the beach told us that, at this time of year, the seal was likely to have been stillborn as the babies don’t generally arrive just yet.
I suppose this is just nature. Joe was fine with it - you do see things washed up on the shore, sheep and the occasional whale or porpoise, and lots of sea birds. But I still found it a bit sad, and wondered about the mother seal.
But back to life here, now that the new season is most definitely upon us and summer has gone.
Joe’s been raking leaves in the front garden (and piled them up right in the middle of the path, hmm). We’ve been baking gingerbread. Not biscuity gingerbread, but cakey stuff which we spread with lemon icing and which gets stickier after a few days. I actually find the icing a bit much so next time we’ll leave it off. But I have treacle and dark muscovado sugar arriving today in the shopping ready to bake another batch.
Yesterday we went to the little playground after school with friends, and took a detour on the way home so Joe could show me more fly agaric mushrooms. They were growing under a plantation of pine trees and I’ve never seen as many in my life. Some were as big as dinner plates. I decided to go back later today with my camera (despite the weather) and waterproofs so I can get down low and take pictures before they collapse and melt back into the ground.
We’ve been watching My Yorkshire Farm on TV. Joe loves it, and so do I. I’m also halfway through the film It’s Kind of a Funny Story on Netflix, and am enjoying it. I like a quirky film.
Other plans for the week: finding rosehips (Joe wants to make syrup) but we’ll need a whole kilo of them, and making beeswax candles using an old kit I bought from someone on Skye Free Ads. He’ll love that. Also, we’re keeping a close eye on the hazelnuts so we can pick them once they’re ripe. This part of the world is covered with hazel trees, and we have a few at the edge of the garden.
The house is now officially ‘under offer’ so we’re just waiting until we reach the point of no return before we start packing, although Jay has emptied a lot of stuff from the outbuilding. October is a month of birthdays and I’m starting to put a bit of money away every week for Christmas too. I’m not the most organised when it comes to buying presents way ahead of time but I’m trying my best.
Finally: thank you for your lovely comments about the blog. I really do appreciate it. And wishing you a happy October for tomorrow.
