Today we headed west, well, not that far west but to the west of the Orkney Mainland. The forecast showed a break in the wind and rain so we decided to take the dogs and head somewhere different.
An initial venture to go up Hammars Hill was thwarted by 3 loose sheep on the track on the way up so we diverted and headed further west to go up Burgar Hill instead. We had a showery walk up to the top and a quick spy out from the RSPB hide at the top. The peace was marred by the siren like sound emitting from one of the massive wind turbines (see my Instagram for a video). Turbines… I’m torn. I love the fact they they produce green energy but I don’t love the fact they are big and loud in the middle of our landscape. But I think on balance, the energy they produce is far more important and impactful than any negative side effects.
Anyway, I digress. After our wander up the hill I really wanted to go further to the Broch of Birsay as I knew there would be some cracking waves rolling in there. Just as we arrived it started raining. My 14 year old nipped out of the car and took some quick snaps on his phone while I clambered down onto the beach to get a bit closer.
The seas seemed to be higher than my head and big breakers smashed over invisible rocks and skerries further out. The rain got heavier and I got a dowsing but I couldn’t have cared less, taking photos of the waves and being on the sand as the waves washed in was JUST what the doctor ordered.
I headed back to the car soaked on the outside but warm on the inside, in all respects. My husband suggested I was bonkers but I refute that. Sometimes you just need to embrace ‘it’. And today, for me, ‘it’ was the heaving seas, the heavy rain and the smell of salt in the air.