Thoughts from a Notebook

Sometimes the days are long, but conversely the week is always all too short.

I went to Ardmair. The Loch Seaforth was coming in through the Summer Isles. I watched it come in and then disappear behind the point and make its way into Loch Broom. The light was good.

I walked through the caravan park and round to the pier. This is something I like to do. I have done it with Apothecary7. I have done it with Maeve the Deerhound. Now I do it alone. It is something I like to do. It has a rhythm. It is of a routine. The light changes. The weather changes. Ben Mor Coigach is a constant.

I stood at the end of the little pier by the rail, high above the surface of the sea. I wondered when and if I would be back to see it again. I have wondered that before. I would like to wonder that again.

Back on the pebble beach I wandered slowly along. I made a few found object collages. This doesn't take long to do but it passes the time. Old fragments of nylon fishing ropes. bits of wood, seaweeds, a shell, and always the stones. Large and small, dark wet and light dry, long and round, mostly flat. Patterns, colours, lights and darks, lines, inclusions, breaks, and imperfections.

I sat in the car and read my book. It was bright and warm, even in the rain.

For once I went back to Ullapool for a proper lunch. Cullen Skink from the Seafood Shack.
Then there was more reading until it was time to go and see all the week's work at Bridge House Art and to blether with the artists and tutors and to bring Apothecary7 home.

DMC-LX7 f/2.8 1/500 sec. ISO-80 18mm (35mm focal length 180mm)

Extras:
MV Loch Seaforth passing Ardmair
The Pier Ardmair and Ben Mor Coigach
Adrmair Bay and the Sumjmer Isles
Isle Martin and Ben Mor Coigach
Beach Collage
Art 1
Art 2