Saturday, 31 July 2010


Image Above: The Burg, Mull

Saturday 31st July

The light has almost gone now, I waited in the quarry and watched gaps in the clouds deepen into crimson. There is so much sky here and so much is made ridiculous by that blanket of light. Earlier in the Sound of Iona I watched a wave suddenly enveloped in an amber glow, there is no reason for this, who chooses a wave out of ocean full of movement? My line snagged a mackerel and I looked away briefly to the rod, boat and the silver life that hung from the hook. The fish I returned as tribute but the glow had moved on leaving me in the shadow of a squall. These random acts of beauty are the local currency and wealth is often afforded merely by a cliff top perch or an open boat.

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