Last gasp of winter

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I cannot sleep. I’m not sure why. Ordinarily I don’t have this problem. I’ve slept through neighbouring houses being struck by lightning (Black Isle, 2000), a marching pipe band rehearsing outside my window (Aberdeen, 2003), waves crashing against the front door (Black Isle, 2005 + Islay, 2012), 90mph winds against my window (Uist, 2014) and the countless, endless noises that come with years of city-living. But at the moment not even the relative silence of suburbia I find myself in can help me sleep.

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This morning I stood awake at 4am, alone, quietly watching the weather outside. I felt like some auld fisherwoman, waiting for her man to return from the high seas. Despite it being the middle of the night, in Scotland, in February, it was quite bright. We are experiencing a late winter burst of weather complete with snow. The snow clouds working hard above us have an almost luminous effect; I find it irresistible.

Later, at an hour most would regard as a bit more human, I went out for a walk with my partner. It was real daytime, not the middle of the night, but that strange snow-light remained, bathing us in the gloom, surrounding us with drifting snow showers.

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I appreciate that unpredictable weather must be a hindrance to so many people, but I adore it. I take little more pleasure than wrapping up for a walk and facing the weather head-on. At those times I feel less like an auld fisherwoman and more like an intrepid explorer. Perhaps I will sleep tonight, cocooned safely from the great white outdoors.

According to Dwelly, February was once, somewhere, referred to as am mìos garbh-fhrasachthe month abounding in boisterous showers. It seems fitting to think of it as such today.

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Low light, long days

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I find myself with a surprise free weekend. A trip north cancelled due to mother nature and father infrastructure rearing their ugly heads to make travel north of Edinburgh as difficult as possible. A day for quiet tasks, eating waffles and doing jobs which are days, weeks and in some cases months overdue. The less said about those the better.

With a new day job recently began I’m learning how to commute every day (top tip: don’t do it) and seeing as it’s now deep into Winter that is mostly in the dark. I listen to a lot of podcasts to keep me company and happily had an email read out on one I listen to recently. File this under ‘blatant self promotion’. Srsly is a great podcast on pop culture with thoughtful discussion and insights – recommended.

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The light of the day has gone already. The past few months have been exhausting with working days extending into the night all too regularly. Today is not one of those days. I’m off to make the most of the rest of my Saturday. Namely, doing very little indeed. A rare treat.

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Misty late summer

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There’s been a mistiness over Uist for a few days now that has hardly lifted at all. It’s warm too. It’s lovely. Just when I’d given up on Summer, she’s come back for a few more days. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

into the abyss

The mist has come down. I walked to the end of the pier and where I usually see hills and villages on the other side of the loch, over to the Paps of Jura, tonight there is…nothing. I imagine this is what it would feel like to be at sea with no sight of land for days. It’s a bit spooky.


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