Homeward Bound

I’m sitting in the railway station.Got a ticket to my destination……. Is there anything more desolate than a deserted, draughty railway platform at dawn? Waiting at Glasgow International Airport for 24 hours for the fog to lift on Benbecula must be the modern equivalent of wallowing in the slough of despond. Although I am not

Hebridean Summer

Defining a Hebridean summer is like trying to catch sunbeams in a fishing net. In many respects it is like this post, you thought it had arrived only to discover that when you took a closer look it had mysteriously disappeared only to reappear a week later. As a scientist I should quote meteorological statistics:

The lady trembles

The expedition to the east coast of the island to listen for gowks is normally followed by an outing to look at trees. Once the islands had extensive woodlands, but now the forces of nature and man have left the mountain slopes and moorland virtually treeless. Only the toughest specimens survive on inaccessible islands in