On wind and wings, bovines and beaches. A look back on Barra and time spent in the Outer Hebrides

The opening, ideally fit for a child, dwarf or hobbit to squeeze through, revealed a confusing-to-me instrument panel below a narrow windshield. I knew there was a pilot even though I saw only an arm dressed in a short-sleeved, crisp white shirt. She pushed forward on the throttle. The engine came alive filling the snug …

Continue reading On wind and wings, bovines and beaches. A look back on Barra and time spent in the Outer Hebrides

Searching for clues of wild things at Rubha Aird a’ Mhuile isn’t easy when you don’t know where to start

Inside all of us is hope Inside all of us is fear Inside all of us is Adventure Inside all of us is...A Wild Thing                                         Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things are Four Americans, four …

Continue reading Searching for clues of wild things at Rubha Aird a’ Mhuile isn’t easy when you don’t know where to start

Sand, sky, sheep and sheer terror: averting misadventures on a (leisurely?) hike to Huisinis Beach

Did I screw up and misread the fine print? Did I sign up for a mountain climbing course or learn to impersonate a mountain goat? Those thoughts flashed through my mind as I carefully picked my way along a narrow, rock-covered track that rose, fell and curved along a steep mountain. I glanced up to …

Continue reading Sand, sky, sheep and sheer terror: averting misadventures on a (leisurely?) hike to Huisinis Beach

Through wind and rain, over hills, valleys, shingle and sand: Tales of a walking holiday in the Outer Hebrides

Ripples of turquoise waves, edged with white froth, rolled onto a broad expanse of empty, white sand. Wisps of white clouds streaked a vivid blue sky. In the background, rolling hills lay in gray-green shadow. Long ago, it was this picture that first alerted me to the presence of the Outer Hebrides, islands of the north-west coast of Scotland.

Cotswolds Sojourns

Weeping Willows, branches trailing in the gentle current of the clear river Coln; birds flittered and twittered between leafy boughs; the meadow, lush and wet, was a carpet of clover, forget-me-nots and dandelions; yellow daffodils and primroses in lavender, red, white and yellow adorned pots and  borders  fronting  dark, honey-colored stone cottages.