Lady Findhorn visits Findhorn

The wind sock at Findhorn flew horizontal, full of north wind straight off the arctic.
The Blue Angel cafe in the Findhorn Community was cosy for our meeting with Liz and Philip on their cycling holiday.

On the beach, the waves collided with themselves as they rushed onshore and the pebbles sang as the waves ebbed in a frill of froth.

Later, Fordyce was a haven of golden harvested fields and fat sheep grazing in the sun; we feasted on salmon mousse and toast.

A short distance away, Sandend was bathed in sunshine with waves rolling in on top of each other in a frenzy of spume, just ripe for the non existent surfers.

Portsoy was cold, so cold, in the fading afternoon, but the sky to the west was layered in bright crimson and velvet grey.

Home to Elgin and the comfort of a warm house and the company of family and grandchildren.

Daughter#1 and I have had a grand day out in Moray.

The waves at Sandend were the winners.