seasons – Island Wife Hebrides

Paving the runway

High in the air, Elizabeth at three days old was wrapped tightly within my arms. Her eyes had not opened to the world for some time as the continuous hum of the small aircraft was keeping her asleep. My body was battle weary and the coolness of the window brought some relief as myContinue reading “Paving the runway”

I watch the sunrise

Waiting for the rubbish removal is a momentous occasion in our household. As Noah has become accustomed to patiently await its appearance at the gate steps. Clutching his own much loved plastic bin truck in his hands. Mustard coloured with a small lift up lid it is well played with and well loved. The truckContinue reading “I watch the sunrise”

Said the robin to the sparrow

With Elizabeth perched on my hip, the sea expanded before me and a breeze blown from the east warmed my face. It had been consecutively warm for a good handful of days in the Hebrides and I was enjoying the freedom it brought. When I say warm. I mean 12 degrees. Which when paired withContinue reading “Said the robin to the sparrow”

The Lighthouse

January came, as it always does and with it that dull rain that signals very little. By this point Christmas had faded but spring had yet to begin its yearly hum. A kind of no mans land, where especially in Scotland the season stagnates and appears unending. Long hard winters are a Hebridean fact fileContinue reading “The Lighthouse”

I will, follow him.

I am often looked upon with sheer amazement when I tell people of our frequent relocation’s. ‘So you just go?!’ They protest. ‘Just like that?’ My answer always simply ‘Yes’. In fact I am always a little amazed in return at how few people would be willing to follow their partners just because they areContinue reading “I will, follow him.”

Feel the breeze of the Hebrides

Harris has begun to exhale its finale breath of winter. The mountain stretching above the house on some occasions has housed a sky of cornflower blue and in the early evenings a lull has begun to break. A kind of sunny coolness that signals a change in season. The promise of ultramarine skies and balmy eveningsContinue reading “Feel the breeze of the Hebrides”

To all the shiny bits

So high up on the mountain are we at Kyles that the view of the sea coming into land is panoramic, washing the fishing boats across the front of the house with the tide. Miniature. As they cut the great expanse of water. Circled always overhead by one or two gulls anticipating the days catch.Continue reading “To all the shiny bits”

To Grace, Amazing

After having moved to The Isle of Harris there became days, encounters, conversations to which I have little recollection of. New faces blurred on mass and unknown places with foreign signage became jumbled as I tried to navigate deep waters. When you move somewhere that holds a change in culture your brain churns through informationContinue reading “To Grace, Amazing”

Young as the morning, old as the sea.

As my chin sat heavy upon the rounded handle of the outdoor brush a small velvet sheened robin with a ruddy rounded chest hopped upon the lip of Fasgadh. Watching it, I pondered as to whether I had ever uncounted a robin so close and fearing I had not I did what any self respectingContinue reading “Young as the morning, old as the sea.”

Over the rainbow bridge

Autumn has arrived in Harris and with it clusters of thick glossy berries swing from trees like over excited Christmas decorations. The wind, like an old expected friend has come knocking and with it I’ve found great comfort. One evening, as the children fell to sleep, clutching a hot water bottle I thrust my feetContinue reading “Over the rainbow bridge”