I know, I know

It's been a bit since a post.  You see Gill, Sarah and I went to Skye.  They travelled up from Cumbria, I picked them up from Inverness and we drove over.  

This was a breathtaking adventure.  Gill and I noted the beauty of this place defies description - there are just no words.  

So, I am going to think about it for a couple of days and then I'll see what I can come up with, in the interim please enjoy one of the creature we came upon on our way to the Blue Studio.

Hello Gorgeous, notice her hair blowing in the wind

Sunday Sunrise

Normally on Sunday, I get up and drink my coffee and then sit around in my bathrobe until I have to get some things done.  

Today, I got dressed first thing and took my dogs to the beach in hopes that it would be empty and they could run around like maniacs.

Looking back over Sleeping Thurso

There was one dog on the beach, but we messed around until they left and then I let them go.  Racing around after each other and then back to me.  And Thatcher didn't have to get in the car - bonus!

Check out that smile

It was a great way to start the day.  I'd love to say it'll become our Sunday routine, but let's face it, the bathrobe has magical powers.

Off to the Grocery Store

Another beautiful day in Caithness, so I decided to take the scenic route to the grocery store in Wick.  I saw the turn off to Dunnett Head so, I drove up to the lighthouse and listened to the waves and the birds and the general beautifulness.

The heather is in bloom and, of course there were more thistles.  Thistles often have visitors, sometimes fabulous big bumblebees, but more often it flies, flies, and more flies.

Nice enough to sit still while I got my camera the way I wanted

After the lighthouse, I headed toward Wick.  But I stopped at John O'Groats and took a trail along the coast toward - I hoped - a place called Shell Beach.

Looking back at John O'Groats

Jason had given me directions to Shell Beach, which turned out to be pretty darn good directions.  Soon enough, I saw this placard in the middle of a sheep field, and then there was shell beach.

You can see Duncansby Head is the far background

Most of the beaches here don't have too many shells, which is sort of strange.  Well, shell beach doesn't have sand really - it just has shells, I suppose that's why it's called shell beach.  

I wandered the length of the beach picking up shells and putting them down.  I had the place all to myself.  It was pretty much heaven.

See, nothing but shells - weird

The walk back was easier because I used the trail.  I didn't really see the trail on the way out and had to do some bush whacking, and that wasn't easy in my flip flops.  I grabbed a honeycomb crunch ice cream cone before heading to the grocery store.

On the way, I saw this sign for the Lyth Arts Centre.  I've seen this sign many times, but I usually have a car full of groceries, and today, well I didn't, so I took the turn off and followed the road for about 5 miles to what looked like a group of houses.  I just about said no way, but then I parked.  It was a huge parking area, but only I was there.

Inside there was this young guy that asked if I came to see the exhibit - I said, yes!  After taking my money, he told me to go to the Mexican Miracle Paintings exhibit first.  This was an installation of over 100 photographs documenting 'ex votos,' which are small paintings that people painted to say thanks to St. Francis for answering their prayers.  There was a guy that was thankful for surviving 4 gunshot wounds, a guy thankful that his horse got well and on it went.  They had the room very dark with candles, a film, and soundtrack of the town itself - church bells and wind.

It was incredible.  

Then there was another exhibit of a local artist; a french photographer that was more interested in the texture of something instead of what it actually was; and a vet that wanted to be a painter, but had rightly chosen to be a vet.

After the art centre, I did go to the grocery store; it had only taken me 5 hours to there. You know what they say, it's the journey, not the destination that counts.

The Thistle

Full white the Bourbon lily blows,
And fairer haughty England's rose.
Nor shall unsung the symbol smile,
Green Ireland, of thy lovely isle. 

In Scotland grows a warlike flower,
Too rough to bloom in lady's bower;
His crest. when high the soldier bears,
And spurs his courser on the spears. 

O there it blossoms - there it blows
The thistle's grown aboon the rose.

 Poem by Allan Cunningham (1784-1842) 

Nature's Compass

Pushed around by the wind - a perfect circle forms

Girls Go to the Beach

We have had a lovely weekend here - the weather has been perfection: 60 degrees and sunshine - 60 degrees is quite warm for northern Scotland.  

Woke up this morning and noted that it was also quite breezy and that the breeze was coming from the south?  This is strange as when the ocean is to your north, you always expect your wind to come from there too.

I decided to go out and get some pictures.  I noticed that the thistles were really going strong and being THE flower of Scotland, I thought I'd better capture some.

I decided to take the dogs, and we'd amble west until we found a nice beach.  This was a great thought until Thatcher refused to get in the car.  Refused!  

I tried to 'help' him in and he did his donkey trick where he straightens his front legs and puts all his weight in his butt. I tried to tell him he didn't want to miss out, but he was like no way.  So back in the house we went, I gave him a treat and shut the door - he looked confused and I felt bad.

But Maggie and I took off, heading west...past Forss, past the Site, past Reay and past the turnoff to the shortcut to Inverness - now we were into virgin territory. 

We past up the beach where the particles wash up, and we decided to keep going.  Then I saw a church with a little windy road next to it that said East Strathy Beach access.  So we turned and followed this little track for quite a way until I saw a parking area.  The road kept going, but this seemed right.  

Maggie and I got out and marched up the hill.  There was a trail, and it was sandy, but it took a few minutes for us to see the beach.

No one in sight

The tide was out, so there was a lot of beach and it was obvious that when it is in, there is only a sliver of beach here.  There wasn't a single footprint on that sand.  I let Maggie off her lead, and she raced around like a maniac.  

Coming back

She loved to race away and then turn and bolt straight back to me.  I really enjoyed this game too, as there is something really cool about your dog racing to you.

Check out her form

When she wasn't doing this, she was playing with this dumb bird.  It was one of those little short legged, black and white birds you often see on the beach that generally run around nervously cheeping.   Maggie would chase it, and it would fly off, but then it would come back and they did this all over the beach - the bird kept coming back.  It was bizarre, but Maggie never caught it.

Her other treat was the little pools left from the tide going out - in and out - in and out - give a great shake.

It was a wonderful what to spend Sunday morning.  When two families descended onto the beach, Maggie and I decided it was time to go.  

Thatcher was sleeping when we returned - poor Thatchy.

Rabbit Love

chosen in Texas

days of darkness finally end

then dog ate my face