Anything but a Hebridean Idyll

Our Hebridean idyll began in anything but idyllic conditions! Despite the millpond crossing from Oban, our arrival at the delightful Borve campsite was met with raging winds and a sporty tent pitching!  Having survived that, we felt we could survive anything.  In true Hebridean style, two beautiful days on Barra lulled us into a false sense of security, before being put to the test again on South Uist.  In order to avoid the carnage experienced by a neighbouring tent, we had to act as human brace poles in Force 8 gales. But at least it was too windy for midgies! 

I do like a stroll along the prom, prom, prom

Maybe it’s because I was brought up close to the seaside but I love a walk along a promenade on a windy day. Walking in the wind and rain as the sea roars nearby exhilarates like no other. And so yesterday, with the prospect of rain a strong possibility, after a day on the laptop and phone, I took Molly to Silloth for her evening run.  By the time we arrived, the sea was a murderous grey and the wind was so strong, Molly could barely keep her tail upright but we still enjoyed our blustery battle along the prom!

 

A windy hilltop

I knew I was back on an English hill top when I stood by the trig point looking across a sea of knee high heather in a howling gale.  The only thing that was missing was the chill factor as, the temperature was unseasonably warm meaning  the wind hadn’t frozen my extremities, as usually happens.

I love the wide open spaces of boggy, tussocky moorland that seem to be unique to this part of the world. To tramp across rough ground, face into the wind, is one of my greatest pleasures and something I appreciate every time I’m out there!

Music in the Hills

Despite the dreich weather in southern Scotland yesterday, we found ourselves in the forest above Phaup Burn. Accompanied only by the sound of occasional birdsong and the musical tinkling of hidden streams, the wind song was muted by the army of conifers.  But what a different story once we left the forest tracks behind!  The keening and moaning of the wind in the low cloud provided an eerie soundtrack to the first stage of our trudge up to the unseen summit of Skelf Hill. But once on the summit, the banchees were shrieking, as in in protest at our visit

Towards the forest

The wind begins to moan

The banshee is shrieking

Molly doesn't like the wind

Windy walking

It was a beautiful but bleak day in the hills yesterday. The rapid overnight thaw was a surprise but there was enough snow to leave us with the exhilarating thrill that comes from crossing virgin snow, the icy crust breaking with a satisfying crunch underfoot.  The light was ethereal at times as the clouds scudded across the sky at an alarming rate, evidence of a powerful jet-stream high above us, orchestrating the weather. High on the fell we fought against its destructive power, the wind whipping our faces and tearing relentlessly at our clothes as we returned from the summit.

The "Old Year" is going out like a Lion

Take a seat!!

The old year certainly wants to go out in a blast if the winds of last night and today are anything to go by.  I don’t sleep well  at the best of times and as I dozed, was conscious of the wind stalking  the house for several hours.  The new cowl on the chimney has definitely changed the” tone of the moan” and the former shrieking howl has evolved into the irritable moaning of a fretful child denied a favourite toy.  But at least my cycle to work was enlivened by the leaves dancing and gambolling on the river path

What a difference a fortnight makes!

Frosty wind made moan.....

The wind is extraordinarily strong today.  Lorries have been blown over on the motorway and at 5.30am, I thought a gust was about to lift the house roof off!  Its strength hadn’t abated when I left for work so I took the safer option and walked in rather than be blown off my bike.  Now, the ill-fitting office windows are moaning and shrieking in a manner worthy of a Christopher Lee horror movie.  It’s somewhat distracting on a telephone call as few callers are familiar with the vagaries of the building, and to them, it sounds quite disturbing and unsettling.