We had a gale and lashing rain overnight. Sleeping in a Shepherds Hut made of corrugated iron was like sleeping inside a huge percussion instrument! The various intensities of rain then sudden change of tempo and pace; it sounded like hail and the differing lengths of pauses between gusts of wind. I didn’t mind it at all, wrapped up with a duvet, eiderdown and hot water bottle was really cosy and felt as if I was in the middle of a musical composition of enormous proportions. Of course that’s why I came here rather than staying at home. Feel v comfortable being even closer to nature but am getting fed up with my boots, £20 from a discount store but surprisingly warm!
I wrote this after another night of stormy weather.
The wind picked up during the night and I was woken with the repeated wrapping of something loose blowing in the wind. Reminiscent of a metronome that someone forgot to set, the uneven drumming was enough to drive you quietly bonkers! However, there is a man here called Mark who spends time working on the croft. He must be one of the most gentle of men and when he told me that the croaking of the Corncrake was so load and repetitive in the summer that he had got up and thrown stones at 3am, I thought perhaps I should train myself to ignore such trifles as a rattling chain. After all I am on Iona!