The gale came with warning. We were prepared for the high winds, although I didn't quite believe it would come true: "The weather forecast is saying 60 miles per hour, but it can't be: it's May! It's almost summer!" Famous last words, for winds over that were recorded on South Uist yesterday, but with the warning from the forecast, preparations had been carried out and no harm was done. Here, anyway, and hopefully with you too. Then, in the afternoon, with cobwebs that needed shaken loose a beach walk was the plan. And despite the inclement weather, it was enchanting. It reminded me of our winters, our beautiful, wild winters and it brought colour to my cheeks and stole my breath for laughter. The wind collected up the loose sand and skittered it over the beach, creating hieroglyphs in movement, each lasting longer in memory than in reality. The sea was not immune and blew sideways, with the white horses becoming disenchanted as they reached their peak, losing form and becoming vapour.
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