A Pie for Breakfast

Weather: Cold, misty and windy with some heavy rain.

After a beautiful April, the weather has deteriorated somewhat. There have been spells of hot sunshine in many parts of the UK that we can only dream of but the weather here has made it difficult to get out much. This has necessitated much inward activity, appropriate during lockdown, which persists at maximum strength on the islands. We have spent much of our time making a short video presentation for the North- East Photo Network (NEPN) searching through such video footage that we have made and constructing some kind of narrative about our project from it. There have also been lots of Zoom activities, one with Photography students from the Royal College of Art (RCA). another with the NEPN and the University of Sunderland, others have been with the students at the University of the Highlands and Islands (UHI).

There have also been those with family and friends, and it is difficult not to feel the dreaded Zoom fatigue as the situation continues unchanged. We also attended the first virtual gallery opening at Taigh Chearsabhagh where lots of folk sat in splendid isolation sipping their glasses of wine to excellent exhibitions never to be seen in the flesh (so to speak) by the human eye. The life drawing has continued although some models are viewed by such wide-angle lenses that their limbs appear to be suffering from some terrible wasting disease. Clearly the difference between the single point wide angle perspective of a basic lens and the apprehension of the human eye(s) and the brain are in need of some examination and thought with regard to online classes. We are told that in the future this brave new world will dominate our learning and cultural experiences so there is nothing there to worry about.

We have managed to get out a little, once to Balashare beach, a beautiful, windswept, west facing beach with white sand and turquoise sea. The winter storms have damaged much of the hard standing and the gravel road to the beach, and a lone operative was patiently piling stones in the holes that had been subsequently created. We were also able to retrieve out Trail camera which had been fixed onto a post close to a watering hole for deer. We have had mixed fortunes with this device although there have been a couple of good images there have also been lots of uneventful images and moving images. Due to the wind we have not yet repositioned it but intend to persevere with it once the weather changes.

The local Co-op seems to be managing lockdown distancing rules better as people get used to the space restrictions. There is, of course, the usual dysfunctional ballet when shoppers pirouette around one another, occasionally holding their breath and rushing past each other when in a rush, or they have become pinioned into a corner when they hesitate and realise that they need to go back because they have forgotten something, or approaching a check out with a single item behind another shopper with a trolley full of shopping. Such anxiety as this is an everyday occurrence as we approach the Perspex shielded tills slotting our plastic money through the gaps in biological shielding. Any serious shortages appear to have rescinded, and we now have plenty of flour and toilet paper (so are able to make papier mache items to keep ourselves amused).

We, like many others, have been busy baking and have been making Sourdough focaccia, lemon polenta cake, and brownies. These have been sent out as food parcels to places as far away as Glasgow and London, thus ensuring that the pleasurable aspects of life in lockdown experiences can be shared. We have also been nettle picking and the peat-land nettle pesto experience is not to be underestimated. The other development regarding food consumption is that we have taken to the occasional indulgence of Mrs Tilley’s sea salt fudge which is spectacular, recommended, and not for the faint hearted, oh – and we have learned that there is such a thing as a breakfast pie..

We are now 65 days into lockdown, COVID-19 has well and truly set in, of which we are constantly reminded, on every news and media channel. An apocalyptic unfolding of events envelopes the weeks, which seem to drift into each other. The recent weather on the Island, of persistent and engulfing mists, supported by a humid thick air makes it feel like we have been held hostage inside a cloud. The days are not all like this but the the cloud covering has created an hypnotic atmosphere, we imagine that this must be what it feels like to be stranded on an Island…

We have had several sightings of Herons over the sea loch – they are nesting in a near by forest plantation. A beautiful short eared owl has also taken up residence around the croft, and can be seen, particularly at crepuscular times, gliding and swooping across the boggy moorland. The lambs are bigger and fatter and are no longer threatened by the sea eagles.

The glorious flowers of the machair have started to appear: bog cotton, sea thrift daisies and many more that we are yet to learn the names of.

Why the Machair is special

We try to maintain some semblance of a routine, regular yoga, walks and a strict control on our alcohol consumption, which could easily have become excessive, and for some (looking at the emerging statistics) has. We, like everyone else, look forward to being able to meet and greet people/friends, without being chaperoned by Zoom, Skype (or any of the other platforms), that seem to have miraculously appeared, in order to minister to our needs during lockdown.

Our cats, Alice and Ange, continue to exist, confident that this is their undeniable right and that it is our duty to feed them. They are always alert and aware of each other – prepared and ready to defend their absurd territories – usually their own special basket or cat litter domains.

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