The Silent Sea

Usually the sea below my house is audible in my garden. It can be relatively gentle lapping or the thunder of heavy waves in a swell or driven by gale force winds.

On other, rare, occasions the sea feels as though there is a steely, unreal quietness in it. It's a rare occurrence and the results are shown in the pictures below:

When I see the sea like that I am always reminded of a paining by Finnish artist Akseli Gallen-Kallela that I saw and liked in the National Gallery in London. It is called Lake Keitele: A Vision of Finland. 

What I do not know is what phenomenon or combination of circumstances causes it. 

I'm Sorry About The Storms

However just to cheer those of you languishing in inclement conditions it's 2100 hrs on Lewis and this is my view:

It's a shame about the haar out in The Minch but that will doubtless burn off in the morning.

War Games

I looked out of my window one dismal morning recently just before a spell of really nasty weather hit us and lo and behold NATO was at it again. The Minch is obviously regarded as a good place to practice whatever it is they practice doing. I suspect that chasing submarines plays a big role. Apocryphally whenever these war games take place our cellphone and other communications all go haywire. It certainly happens but I'm sure it's just a coincidence! 

The Marine Traffic app gave a good indication of what was going on. It only identifies one vessel at a time unfortunately but if it is assumed that all the vessels the same colour as the identified NATO warship are also NATO warships then there were a lot of them around.

Hello! What's this? HNLMS Trump? Surely he's not had a warship named after him already.  No. Actually it's a Dutch frigate named after several Dutch 16th/17th century naval heroes.

Behold, The Sea.

It is often remarked that the sea, and in particular The Minch which is that stretch of sea between The Outer Hebrides and the mainland of Scotland is predominantly grey. When I'm at home in Eagleton I see the sea day in and day out because I live above it and on its edge.  Recently we have had some very grey, squally days but the sea has been the most glorious of colours:

Sorry If I'm Boring You.

This morning I woke so it was, as I always say, a Good Morning.  

I made a resolution as I was getting up to do nothing at all until I had finished at least two emails from my ever-lengthening list.  It is now over three hours later and I still haven't even added a word to one I started yesterday.  Shame on me.

However - and I really will try and make this the last post this winter on the subject - as I walked into the kitchen I was met with this 

and, yes, the sea really was ablaze like that.  Before I knew it my resolve had evaporated and I'd reached for my camera.  By the time I'd downloaded the images I had switched on the morning news to see what everyone was saying on this the last pre-Referendum morning and then, as always, managed to get side-tracked by a few emails and so on as well as the scene developing over the next hour or so across The Minch to the West Coast of the Scottish Highlands.

I have so many more blog topics waiting in the wings so I'll try and get some more variety in over the next few days.

Peace and Tranquility: A Study in Blue

with a little bit of red.

I can't make up my mind whether the beautiful weather yesterday and today with sun and blue skies intermingled with amazing high clouds giving an almost surreal effect at times.  It's been very warm too (by Hebridean standards).

I am sitting in my Study this morning looking out over a glass-calm Minch to the Scottish mainland with not as much as a whisper of air so that I can hear nothing but the gentle lap of the sea on the shore in the bay below the house.  It is hard to realise that a few days ago this was the scene as the ferry, MV Isle of Lewis, came North up the Minch past the house.  If she does that then it's rough out there and she is sailing into the sea before sailing South across the sea with the running sea on her stern.  This reduces the length of time that those on board have to endure the obvious discomfort.

Minch Moonlight

The sky was clear enough to see the moon last night:

Light

The light striking through the morning clouds over The Minch can be very atmospheric:

Behold The Sea

I love the sea. That's no secret. I live by the sea. Rarely does a day go by when I don't sit and watch it. The moods of the sea are as many and as varied as the moods of the sky. I love the sky too. In Eagleton, in particular, I live with BIG skies; 360 degree skies.

Some years ago when I was in The National Gallery in London I saw a painting by Akseli Gallen-Kallela entitled Lake Keitele and I was mesmerised by the patterns in the water.

Lake Keitele by Alseli Gallen-Kallela

I see similar patterns quite frequently in The Minch from my Study window:

August Gales: Before The Storm

It has to be said that even in the Outer Hebrides full-blown gales in August are unseasonal.  Yesterday was unseasonal!  Yesterday we had a full-blown gale.  And some.  The previous evening we were warned that the weather front was moving North from England and Southern Scotland and that when it reached Northern Scotland it would be a low pressure with whirling gales as it tracked North.

We were warned – gales were coming

The weather changed from the sun of Thursday as the front came North.  At this point the front is yet to come from the South (to the left of the picture)

The sky lightens and then darkens

And then the front came through

     And the sky darkened

And then the rain came up the Minch

The Temperature Rose Today

It got into double figures.  I recorded a maximum of 11.2 deg – fleetingly.  It felt a lot colder in the wind.  And this is the middle of May.  There are less than 7 weeks before the nights start drawing in again and midsummer will be passed!  The mainland of Scotland with snow on some of the mountains stood out for part of the day which was crisp and clear.

The View I Treasure

I know that I have posted many versions of the view from my house in Eagleton.  When I returned I was disappointed to find that the weather had closed in and the view of the mainland of Scotland was obscured.  In fact I’ve only seen it briefly on one day during the last week.  However the sun was shining today and the view from the kitchen was transformed.