Making the Silage

Another day and another weather pattern. Is it any wonder that the British talk about little else?

The sun which kept shining to the last hurrah last night was singularly absent this morning, being replaced with a sea fog obliterating our view at first light.
With persistence on the sun's part it was burned off to give a bright morning for our visit to Kirkwall, and the majestic St Magnus Cathedral.

But later, coffee with Poppy was definitely the morning's highlight for me.
We blethered long enough for His Lordship to leave us, return and leave again, and for the sun to finally make it through the clouds.

We tried for a late lunch in Birsay, but having failed to read the tides, we had to forego once more a walk over to the Brough and had to content ourselves with a walk on the beach and a stroll along the cliff top, to look down on vertical red cliffs with an absence of nesting birds, but a proliferation of sea pinks and beaches of heavy stone slabs.
Nearby, the good weather brought the tractors out in force to cut the fields for silage, much to the delight of the attendant seagulls hoping for some juicy worms.

We did a bit of the craft trail on the way home and His Lordship bought me a silver cowrie shell on a chain.
Cowrie shells are very valued in our family as they are quite hard to find. Once upon a time many years ago, we chanced on a cowrie beach near Kinlochmoidart and daughter#1 set two in silver as earrings for me.

All in all, it has been a grand day and hopefully His Lordship agrees.