There is magic in all of the seasons on Skye. The magic is easy to spot in spring, when the countryside bursts into life with a thousand wild flowers in every direction. Or in summer, when the sun glistens in ever-changing patterns on the sea, and the evenings are as bright as the daytime. Or in autumn, when the hills and moorland are painted in every imaginable shade of yellow, brown, green and gold.
So, what of winter, when all about is wet, cold and lifeless?
Damp, Dismal, Dreary, Dull, Drizzly, Drab, Dripping.... there are plenty of words beginning with 'D' that can describe a Skye December. A few might add 'Depressing' or 'Dispiriting' - though not me. The raw winter wind is as clean and fresh as the wind can ever be. Frequent flurries of sleet and snow race by, rattling their icy fingertips on the windows as they pass. The lifeless grasses on the moor shiver in silence as daylight fades and the looming moon peers through gaps in the clouds.
But we are cosy inside. Stove glowing. Books to read, Christmas cards to write.
Me in December...??? Dreamy, Drowsy, Dependable, Defended, Durable.
|Roskhill today - Sun, Snow and...|