The other day these chaps arrived bearing technology. It seems I was to be interviewed. An incomer in North Tolsta? “Why here?” they asked. And I sat, waiting for inspiration. But it didn’t come, I faltered. The people are wonderful in the village I ventured – but of course I wasn’t to know that before I lived here. We bought a lovely little house here – that’s why really. It’s nice and small in a quiet village without a through road. You can walk down the road and no-one’s there [just like Cream sang] and, and. I sat a bit, smiled and wondered what to say. The technology bearing people were very nice, they make lovely TV programmes I’m told [we have no TV and will not have one until I know the technology is going to catch on J] and I tried be interesting. I failed. Miserably and I’m annoyed with myself.
Perhaps this is what I should have said;
When you sit and listen – you hear nothing but the flapping of seabirds’ wings and the distant roar of the sea on the beaches. Unless there is a bit of a blow when the rain comes in from the sea, the wind roars across Tolsta Head and plays a tune on your roof tiles. Or it snows and the village is transformed for a few days or weeks – the crofters out on their old Massy Fergusons to feed the sheep and cows.
When the sun comes up, it glows gently behind Stac Polly on the mainland across the Minch lighting up a jagged line of mountains from the top of Scotland to Skye. As it rises further it lights up the heather on the peat-moor behind the village and the old peat tracks stand out like rivers of stone and mud. And you are reminded of the old island ways.
Then the sun’s rays reach the golden sand on the lovely beaches – beaches where your just as likely to meet no-one on your walk, rain or shine.
Whatever the weather – and it varies a lot and regularly, it’s a wonderful place to be.
It’s something like that I wanted to say. So, if you happen to see the programme sometime, just remember what I meant to say!
