Across the sea again

My “how am I going to cope with seeing so little of the island?” concern is solved by being given the option of accompanying Diana to the Plateau, to cut grass and bracken from around tree seedlings planted around the same time I was in Glenscorrodale in February 2023. Apart from the sheer exhaustion of the work (an hour, there and back, and we do this     “commute” twice) it is enjoyable work in possibly the most remote part of the island, in ideal conditions.  After we have called it a day, I walk the Red Rock route to get down to the shore. The idea was to shear some of the bracken en route, to make the path clearer but I end up confused. creating a path to a vertical drop and having to backtrack. Whoops.  A wonderful swim in late-afternoon sunshine. I am beginning to feel at home. It has taken three days to take in all the changes, and the flux of people (two more blasts from the past arrive today – Helen from 2018 and Sam from 2017).

Day 2 of “dailies” (toilet cleaning etc) and room cleaning. The dream team takes healthy breaks… … and I stop work  a little early as I am itching to wander. I follow the well worn shore path to the south end, populated with new additions to the Eriskay pony herd.

Holy Isle. I am in familiar territory. But this trip I am getting a lesson in the adjusting to change: Apart from the imminent departure of Adam (shock horror), and a new team running the Centre, there are more than the usual number of new faces and re partnering. I am working in House Care, which is at its busiest, between courses. 30+ sets of sheets need to be put through machine cycles, dried, and folded in a very particular way; 30 yoga mats need to be cleaned; sitting mats vacuumed, and so it goes on. After a six-hour working day I am pooped, and everything is hurting. A short rest becomes a two-hour snooze. And, before I know it, it’s supper time. Hastily, I plunge into the sea. At least I have done that one thing. At the end of the day, I sit outside the Peace Hall, Julie’s annuals backlit and thronged with bees. Beautiful.

Today it is Kev who can barely stay awake. But we manage a visit to the Gallery of Modern Art. Polarization, 1972, David Croft-Smith David Croft-Smith has said that his paintings are based on dreams and visions in that space just as you fall asleep. He is interested in where ideas, imagination and creation come from in that dream-like state of the subconscious mind. Bridget Reilly Wrong Beat and Baby, 2021, France-Lise McGurn Flame Garden (mold bloom), Enzo Camacho and Ami Lien Watercolour, ink, beeswax, abaca pulp, bagasse (sugarcane fibre), banana stalk, bugnai leaf, cilantro, coconut, cogon grass, fennel, kale, leek, onion skins, pine leaf, primrose petals, rice hull, sargassum algae, seashell, seaweed, spring onion, statice blossoms, taro shoots, wild grass And enjoy the street art all around the foody-drinky Merchant City. After adding a few more carbs and coffees to our groaning digestive systems, we go our separate ways at Glasgow Central.  I am travelling to Holy Isle, via...

I arrive Aberdeen at 7 am, having overnighted in a pod (tolerable semi-recliner). Bus to Glasgow via Perth. At the changing post at Perth Park and Ride bus number 2 has a technical problem. A rival company, Stagecoach, sucks us up, at no cost. Sweet. I meet Kev and we have a delightful day moonching around the city.  Random curiosity about a high-rise adjacent to Queen Street station leads to us charming the security guard into showing us the view. A disappointing (not very) Japanese meal is enjoyable in good company.

A last little frenzy of domestic activity, running a machine load with my sheets. And a slow meander down to the jetty. Red clover gleams in the early morning light, the raggletaggle farm buildings all look beautiful to me today. Cloud – that will burn off – is hanging over the Rousay peaks, small clouds fill the vast horizons. Low light shows up Rousay’s terraces. See   https://ferries.orkney.com/attractions/glacial-terracing-on-rousay  for an explanation of the geology. I have no idea if I will ever return to the island. But I have left one small segment of coast undone, ready for a return trip should that happen. Sense of gratitude and a kind of completion is immense. Vicky, who I cross at Tingwall, is now reunited with the mog. And happy with how things are in the garden. (No mention of the house!) I love this photo that she sent, so unlikely a portrait: Civilisation beckons in the shape of a vast cruise ship, visible from Egilsay pier.  On the bus, I can’t help notic...

A trip to the post office to return an unwanted item – an excuse to pay a visit. And then a short walk west, north of the jetty. Uncharted territory. Delightful little beach. I go a bit further but want to take it easy today. A lovely last swim. Back to the house for a late lunch. A slow walk to the beach, to hook up with Paul and Clare, who are doing some strimming along the coastal path. At the beach there are eight other people – outrage. The atmosphere is changed completely and I’m glad I have already had my swim. The male of a couple sets off a drone and there is an audible beeping as he flies it over us. I try to focus on the watercolour marks I am making on paper.(“Painting” is too grand a word.) The couple take lots of pictures of each other, play on their phones, draw a heart shape in the sand, and within half an hour are leaving. I get a lift back with Paul and Clare and have supper with them. Clare shows me the photos she took of moths caught in their moth trap yesterday eve...