
Gone with the wind
Overhead a sky of cornflower blue tilted on its axis, as I lazily swung on the children’s swing. I could see nothing but blue, not even wisps of cotton candied cloud. So blue was the sky, I could of drowned in it. The bolts holding the swing together creaked to a steady rhythm and I…

Home, to the Hebrides.
In scenes of sadness and in joy, I have watched the Hebrides come and go on many occasion. I have left and arrived under such a myriad of circumstances now, that living on the islands has sometimes represented the scenes of a stuffy church fair tombola; my hands anxiously fanning all the tickets out to…

Islands on the edge: Part two
The ferries were cancelled and news was the previous days news had not arrived, nor did any one know when the papers would eventually turn up. I don’t read the paper but I do have an intrigue towards them when they don’t make it to the island. A step back in time to when the…

Edge of the Islands: Part One
Even though still early in the morning the wind was strong and high, the day was already showing itself to be good drying weather. Hanging out the washing each damp item of clothing felt icy between my hands, pushing my arms down inside knotted sleeves the chill was painful against my bare skin. The temperature…
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