The fine weather had vanished as suddenly as it had arrived, a nasty wind was beginning to blow from the north-east, and – although it was calm for the moment – the sea off the lighthouse rocks was looking moody and sullen. Algy gave the matter some thought, and decided that it would be prudent to man (or fluffy bird) the lifebuoy, just in case…

The snow melted away almost as quickly as it had arrived, and by the afternoon of the next day there was no snow left at sea level, although the peaks of the hills inland were still white. It was a fine, sunny day, and the world was full of colour again, so Algy flew back to the lighthouse and found himself a sheltered spot near the water, where he could relax on the rocks in the sunshine, and watch the sea swirling all around him.

Algy knows that many of his friends will have a long holiday weekend ahead, so he hopes that you will all find a pleasant spot to relax in, and have a happy and very fluffy time 🙂

Algy flew over to the other side of the lighthouse rocks, and was surprised to find that there were many clumps of primroses growing among the rough grass there, despite the very exposed location. There was also a fine view of the Small Isles of the Inner Hebrides, so he tucked himself down comfortably among the flowers, keeping as low to the ground as possible to avoid the worst effects of the bitter wind, and gazed out far across the sea…

The weather continued to get brighter and colder, and suddenly the world was full of colour again, and the light was so bright that Algy’s eyes could hardly adjust to it after months of gloomy grey half-light. He set off into the sunshine, and flew over to a high point on the north coast, where he found a fine spot to sunbathe which was sheltered from the bitter north-east wind. The sea had turned deep blue, and he could see for miles in every direction. It was a truly glorious late-winter afternoon!

This is a wee bit closer to Algy’s experience on the headland rocks yesterday, although it doesn’t quite convey what it’s actually like to be there. In reality, the noise of the sea was much louder, crashing and booming on the rocks all around, and the noise of the wind was relatively insignificant (except to a built-in camera mic!).

Posted especially for all Algy’s friends who love the sea but don’t get to visit it very often 🙂

[Hand-held video recording with camera shake and plenty of wind noise to add authenticity 🙂 Algy’s assistants couldn’t manage to get the tripod to this remote location, which requires a steep descent (and subsequent ascent) at a remote spot on the headland – unless of course you are a fluffy bird and can fly there…]

p.s. Anyone know how to provide an adequate wind shield for a built-in mic on a still image digital camera?

After a very wet start, Sunday turned into a beautiful early autumn
day, at least for a while. So Algy flew out to the end of the headland,
and spent a very happy afternoon watching the breakers surge in over the
rocks on an unusually high tide.

Algy hopes that you have all been enjoying a happy Sunday afternoon too xoxo

The weather had taken a most peculiar turn, bringing pale, drifting mists that hovered around the islands and floated in and out from the sea across the land all day. Algy flew up to a rocky perch to admire the view, and noticed that everything seemed strangely flat in the diffuse light. There wasn’t the slightest sign of green on the peat bogs or moorland yet, but there was a definite change in the air, and Algy knew that the West Highland spring had arrived.