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 truck […]Read More I watch the sunrise
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 with […]Read More Said the robin to the sparrow
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 file […]Read More The Lighthouse
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 have […]Read More I simply remember my favourite things.
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 evenings […]Read More Feel the breeze of the Hebrides
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 respecting […]Read More Young as the morning, old as the sea.
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 feet […]Read More Over the rainbow bridge
The air held warmth but the breeze blew cold, autumn had somehow arrived. With it came heather clad rocks, as if over night the feet of a large giant had squashed and bruised the grass below and brambles, thick with dark seeping fruits hung ready for eating. One afternoon as myself and Bea pottered around […]Read More To all that we possess: A practical guide for mind and heart
On Harris, I live in a world of two halves. One half holding the name, ‘a lot of people’ and the second half ‘hardly anyone’. They don’t mix, but I do struggle immensely to transition from one to another. For when I am in the half of ‘hardly anyone’ I never question who I am. […]Read More To all our callings
‘Do you know why those yellow poles are there? They show you where the edge of the road is when there’s snow. Remember your not in the hills. These are mountains’. Its quite easy to forget that you live upon mountain. ‘What’s it like there?’ ‘Well its like living in the lakes only amplified’ Is […]Read More To all our highest mountains