West coast wanderings

Two whole weeks away on the west coast.  Wonderful. The weather was "mixed" - the polite Scottish way of saying that there was no blazing sunshine or sunbathing on the beautiful beaches.  No, it was more a case of rushing out for a walk between the showers, watching the sky for a darkening, making the most of the patches of blue.  The wind kept the midges away; no-one got sunburnt, we had a lovely time.   This time the time away included an adventure involving crossing the Minch (it would be fun to play the tune on the ferry) to the island of Lewis to visit my daughter, who is there for the summer.  

We were treated to a family fishing trip and caught lots of lively, silvery blue/green mackerel and even some haddock.  It took me back to fishing with a handline in Lochcarron as a child - the thrill of feeling that bite on your line, the guessing (to start with) what would be on it, and learning the feel of the way the fish moved.  Maybe it was no coincidence that I went on to spend many years doing mackerel research work.   This time we used sea rods - good sturdy, simple contraptions. No casting involved, which makes very good sense in a small boat with four rods deployed. Unlock the reel, finger over the line, let it out till it hits the bottom, reel it in a bit, then jiggle up and down (gently), and wait.  Of course the folk who took us out knew exactly where to go, which helped!

Lewis. What a place - vast expanses of sky and moor and beaches that stretch as far as the eye can see.   Oodles of abandoned houses and sheds, many with half their roofs torn off.  Rusting corrugated iron galore. Since I was with family, there was less time to take photographs; some day soon I hope to go back.  We made a visit to Luskentyre beach on Harris (I still haven't worked out exactly how the division between Harris and Lewis works, but we did pass signs indicating the end of one and the start of the other).   The sun came out and the sea was that magical turquoise that comes from sea over sand.  A fortuitously washed up log on the beach made a perfect place to perch and sketch.  The family were thoughtful enough to leave me to it.  I only moved when I realised the tide was about to reach my feet.  Bliss.  One day I will capture that colour. One day.