A bright Sunday morning in early September… and a walk to one of our favourite ‘local’ beaches. After stopping to look at the piglets at Orbost Farm and admiring the impressive (and recently renovated) Orbost House, we wander down the track towards the pewter-coloured sand and the pine forests beyond.
Spikes of gorse, rowan berries, seed heads and thistledown frame the views out to sea.
The bracken’s turning to sulphur and rust, the grasses are bleached pale, the flowers are revealing ghostly stems, sepia and silver. But the blue scabious and yellow ragwort, white achillea and flashes of pink red campion still abound.
It’s a day for noticing the last of the summer. The sun is still hot and the sky blue, yet the change is perceptible as birches prepare to rain their little coins of gold and heather carpets the hills with violet, mauve and amethyst.
This is somewhere I like to come alone, when the visitors melt away and the quiet season begins.
You can take in the views across to the Cuillins, listen to the sound of the waves and watch the buzzards circling high above. But you also become absorbed in the little details - the plants, the trees, the blue-black beetles we spot so often here. It’s a good place to come and get lost for a while.