cuckoos after Storm Hannah

Sweet to hear the herald of summer in the aftermath of Storm Hannah.  36 hours of bruit and deluge.

Out here, they said Severe Storm Force 11 gale. Changing direction, then settling for north. The dwelling here is sideways on to the ocean a field away, due north, and was shivering and trembling in the onslaught. No sleep to be had.

Then sheer bliss to wake late evening to utter silence. Sheer utter relief and ease.  Hopefully the last serious storm for a while.

My small efforts at a vegetable garden have suffered, but there are still deep enough roots to recover. What has come off worst, with its huge wings of leaves, has been the splendid, outrageously foreign gunnera that some imaginative person planted here.  Wind blasted but time enough to renew. Also the nettles, which we have in abundance, are blackened.

Hearing the cuckoo was delightful! Also an old friend from way back, not heard here before, the grasshopper warbler, reels his fishing line in without a break. and always the skylark - oh and a swallow diving and dancing between the cables.

So walking on into summer. Setting seeds in trays, planting out. The wind took all the labels so am waiting for the second leaves to emerge to identify.  Knitting on for baby food for the truly needy. We have so much. Enough and to give.
And a peacening after storm, travelling the world on youtube, fingers flying in yarn with the cats sleeping.

Loud quietude...

Soon after five am the exuberant birdsong shatters the silence... JOY! LIFE! LIGHT!
Myriad voices and songs.
Rejoicing in the new day, in life, in new life burgeoning and promising.

Today a new but familiar voice had me smiling. The continuous grating tone of the grasshopper warbler. Not heard that here before.

One or two of the birds follow me from bush to bush, singing close by.

Early work outdoors is grand.  Sweet mild air, sorting and tidying, moving things needfully, with the cats tracking me. Then feeding them and the air full of the sound of crunching bones as they feast on raw chicken before subsiding into sated sleep.

 Mild now, grey and still. The wind has eased and rain is promised. So much needed. it will be hard and heavy they say so the remnants of the appalling gorse fires will be quenched. 
They sear the very soul. Malicious and damaging, no care for the young life they destroy.

Of course it never knows when to stop, but there we are... The ground is parched and to the young plants rain is lifeblood. 

So, today sorting and planting out and replanting emptied trays .  in between, as always knitting for sale to feed needy ones. 

Just an ordinary day out here.

Our late spring...

The hard, holy days ended and the world in turmoil set aside.

Sweet simple life here as a late spring breaks through in small ways that enchant.  By soon after 5 am, light enough for zestful bird song. And the time always honoured here in this solitary life for a quiet reflective walk.  Quiet  ocean and magnificent dawning dappled light over mountains and water.

Once it was with my dogs, then with my dog, and now? At least four  cats track me, the youngsters racing and leaping in their sheer life energy and joy. Only four as there is a territorial dispute going on between older cat and young upstart cat. older cat now hides a lot. Only three racing, as oldest cat plods now.. staid and steady as we all do in older years.

A chilly wind. Early in Holy Week 48 hours of fierce south easterly near gale force winds. The worst direction for shelter here. My small flowerings were blasted and withered in wind scorch. Bright deep blue forget me not and glowing orange marigolds, both kindly overwintered. But by Easter Eve they had revived enough to give a small prayer table Easter smile of celebration and relief.

And Easter Eve a blessed oasis of sun and warmth, a day to spend outside for these days tend to be rare. Cat company and bird song and seeds to set.  Face lifted to the benediction of light.

Life revolving around growing now. By the front fence, peas of all varieties and sweet peas set out to climb the wire.  The bed edged with white stones gleaned from shore walks .  Seed trays everywhere.  From whatever will hold compost.... recycling food trays.. Green shoots speeding upwards. Peas, broad beans, flowers in abundance. The dog crate in the back area, now a small fruit and vegetable  refuge, and a large old fish box therein seeded with kale and peas. Potatoes nestled on cardboard under hay.

 This life is intensely seasonal. Governed by the weather and the year's ordering. An old, old way.  Married to the life of plants and ocean. Part of it. 

Ocean enclosure!

And the peace of it. 

Holy week Hiatus...

Observing Holy Week as a Silent Retreat here so a quiet time for islandings..

Reminding that very happy here for contact from readers, but that you need to subscribe to the weblog to do that.

Blessings and peace... 

A taste of spring..

Yesterday the sun emerged, strong and pure. The wind changed to a southerly aspect after the northerly blasts that carry icy breath. 

Sheer joy..

I am greatly enjoying my cats these days as they are safe and free and totally at ease out here.  They are five, all rescues. Lovely to see them so relaxed and strong.

Yesterday I was breaking down cardboard boxes and adding to the size of my no-dig potato patch. One box was too strong and sturdy to flatten, so I set it aside for storage etc. At that point I was.... alone!

When I turned round my 14 year old "kitten" was in it, rolling around in sheer glee in the sunshine.. He is long haired and big boned and it made a summer image.
Then he was joined by two of the youngsters.  An intricacy of furry legs..

It may have been the box the chickens came in...It was certainly revelled in..

And on the driveway, tiny wild violets emerging.  Small perfect specks of life.

Early today a walk was planned but it was raining cold watery wind so I turned balk. My big boy had rushed out to come with me and was so disappointed. Sorry, cat! He has followed me on walks for many years, and the quiet lanes here are bliss. 

In solitude, these "small" things are great. Space and time to live at a gentle pace.

And later the warmth will return

Winter in April

The second day of gale force winds hurling hail and snow across the island.  Of temperatures barely above freezing. Of leaden skies and sudden sun, then vicious showers again.

Out here the marine forecasts apply, and today another gale sweeps in off the Atlantic. 

Set to ease a great deal at the weekend and that is gratefully anticipated.

The covering blew off one corner of the broad beans, and they are wind -withered and chill-scorched. There is time for more to be sown  next week and more seed is here.

For now all is at a standstill outside. The lark still sings though....  hardly heard above the wind but there.

The enforced indoor time is well-used; all my knitting sewn up and ready to post. Bright wide headbands with matching fingerless gloves...chunky cabled legwarmers...  Knitting by the fireside and lamplight in winter was the traditional way on these islands for centuries and holds good now ... Instead of television or radio in this dwelling, and with the computer closed down before 4 pm. Letting the peace distil and enclose and nourish.

Quiet gray days become quiet gray weeks... Unseasonably cold  as Lent passes slowly.

The first trays of peas and broad beans, planted out in a sheltered place and covered at night, are thriving and there is now a bright flowerbed shining sunset gold and sky blue .... Last autumn I scattered some veteran flower seeds and now have forget me nots.. and last summer's marigolds are among them.  Rich and full.

All else is slow now.

Evenings here bring a deep peace. Work done for the day, evening meal over and no one about.
But it is more than that. 

An intense quietude settles as the light starts to fade.  Birds nestle, all silences and a healing comes.