Today is the last day of our lockdown. More than a hundred days of staying at home. In many ways, it’s been a true blessing.
We enjoy the quiet beach, the clean air and water, the way we always do. More than anything, we enjoy the absence of litter. The romantic in me hopes it can stay this way, that tourists will be mindful when they return.
Echoes of drums and fiddles float through an open window, a virtual ceilidh in full swing. Dogs run big circles on the beach beside the turquoise water. My mind drifts and settles. Becoming sand, becoming sea.
This post is dedicated to Susan Hey (1979-2020) who lost her battle with cancer last week. She had devoted the last few years of her life to creating a lasting memorial and gift to our town, in memory of her son Hamish. Hamish died of cancer three years ago, at the age of eight.
Because of the covid-19 restrictions Susan’s funeral had to take place behind closed doors. Details of her final journey were released so that those of us who wanted to say goodbye were given the opportunity to do so whilst maintaining a safe social distance.
Our thoughts and prayers are with Susan’s family and friends at this difficult time.
Wishing you all a blessed Tuesday and may you stay safe and well,
with love from Eivor, Pearl and Xenia xxx
Photographs by Xenia Tran, edited in lr.
Camera: Canon Powershot SX60 HS, Settings: f/4.5 – 1/1000 s – ISO 100, f/5 – 1/640 s – ISO 100 and f/5.6 – 1/80 s – ISO 200.
Restrictions begin to ease. We can go out twice a day for sport or exercise, provided we stay local. The gorse is in bloom, glittering in warm yellows. The water is clear, the air still free of pollution. It is quite something, to see anyone here.
distant mountains running like the wind he smells the snow
Looking at the photographs from a beach walk in early March brings a smile to our faces. A young Labrador was photo-bombing along and deaf to his owner’s whistle.
Eivor and Pearl squeal with delight every time we pull into this car park . They teach us how exciting it is to see a familiar place with fresh eyes. Treasuring these moments, I often wish they last a little longer.
easter lilies the white tail of a dog waving at the flying sky
A music of wind and waves we would never have known weaves her magic through delicate times. An invisible urge helps us connect at a deeper level, with ourselves, our fellow humans, all living creatures.
slowing down the earth can breathe again listen, listen
It has been a worrying weekend for many of us in the Highlands and other tourist destinations. Beauty spots in England, Wales and Scotland were swamped by visitors at a time when everyone has been asked to refrain from non-urgent travel.
This morning the caravan parks have closed and most people are returning home. They have better medical support there than they would have in remote parts of the country.
We can understand that people want to visit their favourite places. If we all work together to flatten the curve, this will soon be possible again.
We’re climbing the trail where Winter still lives on the hillside. Snow laces between heather and grass, delightful in simple patterns. Every step brings a deeper awareness. An awareness of what matters most. Companionship, looking after one another, only ever taking what little is needed and giving plenty back. Walking here in the sun, it is love that anchors the way.
into the pure land an immeasurable light turning west
The early morning breeze is invigorating, the surf behind us roars. Eivor and Pearl shimmy between scattered seaweed, branches peeled from drifting trees. Seagulls are feasting on crabs, before the curlew get here.
the camera clicks a sea too wild for fishing winter memories