Opening the back door for the Cat to venture out, I stood breathing in the stillness of the morning air as the grass heavy with a thick spreading of dew slept on. A beautiful but deceiving morning, perfect midgey weather. Usually the horrible little things don’t bother me. I get bitten here and there butContinue reading “Moving to the Hebrides”
Tag Archives: relocating
The weavers tale
A fiery red orange sun, swimming through the dawn like a large brass penny. Set the glass at the back of the house blazing. Tracing the clouds above in gold leaf. At the front a heavy sea mist still hung over the waters of Port Charlotte, like a thick velvet curtain shut on the finalContinue reading “The weavers tale”
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.”
I simply remember my favourite things.
Spring has begun to fashion herself on the Isle as golden sways of daffodils brave face in the cold. Crisp air, the kind in which washing comes off the line cold and fresh. The wind has broken leaving a welcome breeze in its wake. Washing days. I live for days such as those. I haveContinue reading “I simply remember my favourite things.”
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 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.”
Island Wife Hebrides 