The storm broke this morning or at least the rain abated. Yesterday’s low clouds shrunk our horizon and released a well of rain that soaked me during an early morning walk. The locals made sympathetic sounds and assured that the storm was unexpected during May, a time known for its good weather.
After morning porridge we start down the road to Cuil Bay. The sunlight that encouraged us to hurry breakfast is gone but we enjoy the great brown cattle grazing in an adjoining field as they did during the worst of yesterday’s deluge. Their wet coats glisten in this diminished morning light. A small bird of prey glides by, its body cutting across the now visible hills where shafts of sun mottle the green with lights and darks.
We move past a line of thick walled white cottages with yards decorated by blooming bushes and the bright blossoms of a golden chain tree. The tree reminds me of home for its twin grows along the Seward Street Steps. Two sheep block the path but voluntarily rejoin their flock grazing on a field by the loch. They share it with four Canada Geese who take noisy flight when a border collie approaches.
Ahead the path, now gravel, forms a curing line toward a low slung cabin half hidden on a rocky headland. Tinkers have parked four caravans between the sea and path along side a “No Overnight Parking” sign. An overturned tricycle lies nearby. They come for the spring tides to harvest mussels for sale. They come each year.
I leave the path and follow a small burn (stream) to where it joins the Loch. Across the loch’s still disturbed waters sunlight strikes a nearby island then moves on to illuminate the surf at my feet. This seems to release energy built up in the sea by the storm and in me. I find my spirits rise, released by the cap of caution I always set over emotions during times of disappointing weather.
Another stronger storm now lashes at our B & B this morning. It doesn’t bother the wood pecker in our host’s garden but a late arriving pine martin chases him away. What could have tempted the big mink like critter away from his comfort on such a morning?
Rain soaks us during the short walk to our friend’s car and we ride all the way to Oban in a downpour. There we board a two car train south. I am assured the view would be lovely if we could see it through condensation on the windows. Our assigned seats place us next to a local minister on his way to Edinburgh who shared my appreciation of Jimi Hendrix and Neil Young, and the value of daughters. He has four.
Sunshine replaced the storm at Edinburgh but the wind blew with greater and greater strength as we passed through the borderlands and down to Newcastle. Later we learned that they suspended train service in Scotland after we passed through when a new storm made it too dangerous to travel. Several people died in the hours after we moved south.