Uig Sands

At low tide you get a good feeling for the immensity of Uig Sands. I spent many hours yesterday afternoon walking the full length of the beach, from the Crowlista end to the sands nearest to Timsgarry and further on to Ardroil until I reached the Carnish end.
The sky was amazingly subdivided in a vast crowd of mackerel colored clouds to one half and in bright blueness to the other.
It was most pleasing to watch the gentle waves slowing approaching the land.

Light

Today it was overcast but the sun managed from time to time to break through the thin layer of clouds. Penetrating those slots the light transformed the scenery dramatically and as the clouds opened up and closed continuously it was worth the while to sit down and watch the change.

Sadness

On Thursday, our friend was laid at rest, a modest, sincere man, very kind and caring. Life was not easy for him, especially when his beloved wife suddenly passed away 22 years ago leaving him, his son and four daughters devastated. He was hard-working and kept his house spotless. When his neighbour died a few years later and next door became a holiday home, occupied only during a short spell in summer, John must have been very lonely. He had a good sense of humour and a strong, unwavering faith evident in the way he lived his life. I attended the funeral service with great sadness feeling that another human tie has been cut off. We are most grateful for 30 years of friendship and will keep John’s memory dear. The mist of the morning cleared by afternoon and I could not only put a washing on the line but walk among the boulders above Cliff. While sun and clouds were casting a spell on the rocky scenery I got carried away and spent hours opening my eyes and heart, contemplating.

Loch Suainavat

The pattern of the weather for most of August was that a good summer‘s day would be followed by days of poor weather, drizzle, showers or mist.
Therefore much to our surprise Monday turned out to be glorious. Strolling by Loch Suainavat, scrambling over rocks, smaller ones partly covered with heather we walked on and on. The sun was warm and shining brightly. From the lower slopes of Flodraskarve Mor, Beannan a’Deas and Beannan a‘ Tuath the moorland looked magnificent, within the carpet woven of purple heather and grass turning rusty at the tips, blue lochans sparkled here and there. The light was just perfect, the colours amazing and the blueness of the lochs surpassing. We were entranced in a small world in harmony.
Earlier on we passed by a friend’s house in Adroil , but did not call. He was not to be seen outside and knowing that the lamb’s sales were going to be on Wednesday, we expected him to be very busy. Only when we reached home in the evening we heard that he has collapsed and passed away just before midday.

Coast

A leisurely walk along the coast towards Aird Uig on Sunday afternoon opened magnificent vistas of the rugged coastline: The swell of the sea played gently on pebble beaches, encircled crags and steep cliffs, bathed scattered rocks of various sizes, then flowing on to caves and natural arches leaving white lines of foam on the bright blue surface.

Loch Grunavat

Tuesday last week was a good day for fishing. We went to Lochcroistean by bus or on bikes and followed the peattrack to the end, then scrambled across boggy ground and over rocky hills until we reached Loch Grunavat about an hour later. A light breeze kept the midges at bay. We had to cast the line carefully, to keep it from floating with the waves towards the peebly shore where the hook would get stuck easily.

The sun was moving in and out of clouds

and at the end of an enjoyable afternoon we had caught enough brown trout for our dinner and some more for the freezer…


On our way back across the bogs I was fascinated by the luminousity of little shallow pools

Scarp

A glorious day on Monday, one of the few this summer…Friends took me in their car to the upper end of Uig, to Brenish where we spent the afternoon by the shore, watching the waves breaking on big slabs of stones. An amazing vista opens here with the small Mealasta Island only a mile away and the larger Isle of Scarp 6 miles distant which belongs to Harris. On Friday I was to see Scarp again as part of an exhibition at An Lanntair celebrating the work of Robert Adam, who took photos of Scarp in 1937.