For now, just a few impressions from the past two or three days.
The North End of Iona is stunning, with a beautiful, white sandy beach. Day before yesterday, the waves rolled in from the north-west and created inky turquoise tunnels (above).Yesterday, towards the south end, the sky looked at itself in a wet rock:
The wild sea rolling in wave after wave after wave, one more impressive and beautiful than the next. I spent at least an hour up on a heathery hilltop, looking down into the churned-up waters and across the sea. If you click on the photo above and look at the horizon, you should just be able to make out a fascinating island called Dutchman's Cap. It's one of the Treshnish Isles, uninhabited, almost impossible to land on, and I've long wanted to sail out there -- because that's where it is...On my way back, I came upon this view:
A couple of days earlier, nothing was where the lochan reflects the sky. And a bit to the left (or west) in the picture above, that's what you would have found yesterday as the evening drew in:
The beach was ankle-deep, knee-deep in the foam spewed on land, natural soap from the churned-up seaweed. The roar was unimaginable, wave upon wave came thundering in.The night was interesting: gales rattling the rafters and banging doors all over the hotel where I was staying -- my beloved Argyll Hotel, rain pelting the window-pane like hail. Five minutes later, the sky sparkled with stars. Another ten minutes later, the rain was back. It was a see-sawing night and I slept lightly, yet woke well rested.
Everywhere you look, lambs so young their coats are still too big for them. I don't know what makes them jump up high into the air, but that's what many of them do a lot. Standing stock still one minute, all fours in the air the next. And they can run.
More later. Cheerioh!
1 comment:
Wonderful, you are making me yearn to be on Iona again, thank you. MJ
Post a Comment