Brough of Birsay, Orkney
I walk across the damp causeway sidestepping wet seaweed left behind by the outgoing tide.
The sun tip-toes over the Brough its rays touching everything it touches in a tangerine glow.
Passing the Viking settlement my feet sink into the machair abundantly studded with meadow flowers, their scent mingling in the sea-salted breeze creating an unobtainable perfume.
The gloup in the rock frames a breath-taking view looking out towards an awakening Birsay village. The waves crashing dramatically onto the rocks beneath.
Passing a strategically placed stoat trap I climb towards the lighthouse then continue down the eastside of this beautiful peedie Island. I settle on a jutting rock, the sounds of waves below, the soaring birds above soothe me.
With binoculars raised I watch the gentle Kittiwakes cosy in their cliff-edge nests their distinctive calling filling the air. Guillemots sidle along shuffling for their place on the ledge. Puffins, their clown like faces bright against the hard rock.
The sea waves at me as it begins to creep inwards. I make my way back careful of the many rabbit holes. Inquisitive twitching noses popping out checking on their world. Bunny shapes running to and fro.
I walk slowly Back across the causeway, dried seaweed underfoot, the deep rock pools gradually filling.
On the shore I walk head down searching for elusive groatie buckies.
I look back, the causeway once again submerged.
The sun slowly slips down into bed bathing everything in its soft tangerine glow.