Staffin can be a wild, inhospitable place. On a stormy day the sea whirls and crashes, like the blackest ink topped with seething white spray. The rocks are steely grey, the skies are menacing and the wind cuts right through you. There’s a sense of being at the edge of the world and it isn’t somewhere to hang around for too long. The temptation to retreat and return to the comforts of hearth and home is strong.
But as spring approaches and the sun appears, the blue haze and sea breezes transform the beach into a place of quiet and calm. White houses dotted along the headland, the pale horizon, an old net shed on Staffin Island… A walk beside the waves along the smooth sand, listening to the gulls and looking across to the mainland, you feel as though you’re emerging from the long winter at last.