In which Moss 'n me find the sea!

Sometimes, in those brief moments when my mind is still, it flits back to special times and special places. It finds images that I have stored away to retrieve when I need them.

Then my head is filled with the colours of my memories, the tastes of sea and sky, the sounds of the birds and the winds. I can feel the sand beneath my feet or the pull of the far far horizon from the dizzying heights of dramatic sea cliffs.

We did so many soul cleansing walks on our holiday and I keep trying to share them with you here however as soon as I start to pour over my pictures I find that I am drawn in and relive that particular day or that wonderful walk or that beautiful evening sky. Then suddenly I haven't chosen any images or the story that accompanies them.

Today I shall attempt again - here goes...

The day before had been a busy one filled with a lot of  'hurry up and wait' while we queued for the ferry leaving Skye for a distant cloud covered blue island. A story in itself, which I shall leave for the moment, our ferry journey soon ended as we landed on the wet wet island of North Uist.

Described as ... 'The sea is all islands and the land all lochs, that which is not rock is sand and that which is not mud is bog, and that which is not bog is loch and that which is not loch is sea' ...  which perfectly encompasses Uist.

After a drive along single track roads we found our campsite - a full and brightly coloured field.We quickly set up and, as it was by now dark, soon fell asleep ready for the next day.

I was woken by a firm 'stub' by a border collie nose. Moss - thank goodness - does not lick but when she wants attention she prods firmly with her nose then asks with her eyes.

It was 6.30am.

Bleary eyed, I dragged myself out of my sleeping bag, whispered to Himself that I was going to find the beach with the dog, quietly got dressed and left. We slipped through the sleeping campsite towards the sea.

My heart and my eyes were filled by this ...

 The little pathway from the campsite through the machar to the beach.

Moss not wanting to wait ran on ahead.

The tide was out but on the turn 

 The view through the machar towards our home for the next few precious days.

 The machar is an amazing living tapestry of wild flowers and grasses - filled with delicate scents, salty air and the buzzing of insects.

And, after a glorious 45 minutes of solitude, sea and silly dog - we went back for breakfast. Miss Moss had her's in bed :) Then spent a few happy minutes washing her feet with her eyes closed -  a happy dog.

As soon as we could, I dragged  my three very willing men back out with Moss leading the way - we knew what lay out there for us!

Bring on the day :)