Yesterday morning on my way into town I could see smoke rising over Stornoway. It emanated from smouldering areas in the Lews Castle Grounds. No one seemed to be taking much notice. Parts of it were still smoking this morning. Oh well. I'm sure that someone's keeping an eye on it.
Last weekend was the Hebridean Celtic Festival with it's colourful array of marquees:
Just below which is the jetty from which youngsters were getting sailing tuition:
All in all Stornoway is really buzzing at the moment.
We may be apart but when I look at the sky and remember that we are standing on the same earth, looking at the same moon, somehow you don't seem so far away after all.
Life isn't about dawdling to the grave, arriving safely in an attractive, wrinkle-free body but rather an adventure that ends skidding in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, totally worn out, screaming "Yee-ha. What a ride!!"
Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain. (With thanks to shabby girl ofA Travelling Fish)
But what are plans other than more restrictions? (With thanks to Pauline)
Feeling young is fabulous but growing old is a blessing!!! (A comment on this blog by Jaz who used to writeTreacy Travels.)
The trick to pushing 70, GB, is to push back -- hard!!! (A comment by Carol aka Canadian Chickadee who comments but does not blog)
Having lived the majority of my life in the Hebrides where my heart is, I feel I can now call myself a Hebridean. For nine years I lived half my life in New Zealand: a country I love. It was an honour being a part time Kiwi.
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