A fine day on Westray is better than being anywhere else on earth.
When I first visited Westray I was amazed to see that everything was tied down. The wheelie bins; tied down. A static caravan; tied down. A trampoline; tied down, with a couple of helfy concrete blocks for good measure. When the wind blows here it blows to teach everyone a lesson.
I’m told that my friend who has the relatively high-sided box van no longer needs an inspection pit to view any problems with the axles or the exhaust. It has been laid on its side; by the wind. → 6 July, 2016
The sea spray at the Scaun on the northernmost coast of Westray is like tiny glistening jewels today.
My dad says “I think it’s going to be breezy in Orkney today.” I say “I think it’s going to be Orkney.” …
The clouds are as insubstantial as gossamer and float in ethereal whisps above the rugged rocks.
It’s foggy this morning. A grey blanket covers the fields around Einar.