Life, crafty stuff, long walks, thoughts, and little oddities.


Night-time Symphony

Snuggled down under the duvet, I drift on a blanket of sound. Listening to the world around me as it settles into its nights sleep. A creak of a floorboard, relaxing after the pressures of the day. The clock in the bathroom ticks noisily. The hot water gurgles quietly in the pipes, and the radiators click with heat. A clatter as a bird lands on the roof – probably a seagull roosting on the chimney pot again. A gentle patter as the rain is blown on to the windows. The wind whistles round the house, buffeting the building. Even here, at the back of the house, the waves are audible as they rush in, pounding against the seawall. A boom more felt than heard. A constant accompaniment through today’s storm. I  welcome the familiar symphony. Aware that tomorrow I journey on again, heading north. Bags packed and ready to go, waiting impatiently in the corner of the room. Warm and cosy, hot water bottle at my feet. Lulled to sleep by the sound of the sea.


NB I’m off up north for a few days, wind and weather permitting, so a break from blogging for a wee while. No wifi or web-access where I’m going, so forgive me if I don’t respond to any comments straight away 🙂


Laughing gulls

The gulls are having a wonderful time today. Sailing high above the waves, racing them into shore. Wings outstretched, supported by the thermals. Rising and diving. Hanging suspended on the wind, poised in the air, ready to plunge into the ocean. They seem to laugh at me as I pass, two legs hard at work. Fighting against the current. Why don’t you spread your wings, they say, and join us on our journey?




High winds and bubbles

cappucino foam

High tide and gales last night. Doors and windows rattled, and the whole house shook with the power of the sea hitting the seawall.  This morning the windows are coated with salt spray, blurring the edges of the world. Brilliant sunshine shines over the bay, highlighting the wave tops as they gallop shore-wards. We walk balanced on the edge of the wind. Even as we approach the strand, the tempest continues to whip the water, creating a bubbling mass. On the beach, a cappuccino has been washed up. Masses of coffee-coloured foam covers the sand. With the gusts, it rises and swells, jelly-like on the shore. I step in and sink into the softness, walking through a bubble bath. My boots disappear beneath the suds. Laughter peels across the beach, carried home on the breeze.

foamy boots


Feathers in the sand

feathers in the sand

Sand ridges writhe across the beach, seemingly alive in the late winter sun. Lugworms leave coils, decorative gems studding the surface. Delicate feathers in the sand, sculpted by the living water. Rippling down towards the sea with a gentle murmur. The artwork changes from day to day, wind and tide playing their part.


White knights riding to shore

storm seaThe boom of the tide woke me early today. Steel grey ocean, white banners flying on the wind. Waves rushing in, knights riding to battle. The seawall vibrates with their impact. A loud clash of water and stone. Spray splashes up and over, soaking the road. The wind is building again outside as I write this. Another rough night ahead. Lucia’s light will be twice welcome in the morning.


North winds and southern lights

The sunset glows golden in deep blue sky. Clouds dusted round the edges with amber. The headland stands proud in silhouette. The lighthouse signals its presence, out on the south point. A flash of light. Pause and count to ten… then another flash… pause … and another. A silent guardian in the evening light. A fishing boat is out in the bay. Riding light on as it sits at anchor, hauling up lobster pots. The north wind scuds across the water, whipping up the waves. The harbour beacon summons the fishing fleet home, racing against the tide. Darkness deepens. Stars shine in the clear sky, clouds blown onwards. The port is at rest.

mull of galloway
‘Your word is a lamp to my feet  and a light to my path’  Psalm 119:105





Rain and flood

Wind buffets the car, pushing against me. Rain sweeps in furiously, pelting the windows. Ahead, the stream has over-spilled on to the road. I plough onwards. Great spumes of water shoot up as I drive through. The lights of the lorry in front shine out in the mist, a guiding light. Windscreen wipers compete with the spray and the rain, going at full speed. The radio speaks of weather warnings and flooding. I know, I say. I’m in the middle of it! I turn up the music for company. The rivers are in full spate, muddy brown from the peat. A wild sea bashes the coast. Slowly the miles unwind. Gradually the storm is subdued. A pause from the drumming of the rain on the car roof. A break in the cloud. Almost there. Then peace. Safety. Rest. Shelter from the storm.

The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over mighty waters. Psalm 29:3