It’s always good to get another quick fix of Shetland beaches and headlands - even when the weather isn’t perfect.
I’ve spent the last few days doing the things I did on each of the two previous trips north. I got to spend time on Scat Ness and at Sumburgh Head (including a fab Tea & Tunes session in the café at the lighthouse). I walked the length of Quendale Beach and across the St Ninian tombolo.
|The Castle, en route to Sumburgh Head|
|Calm Seas at Scat Ness|
|St Ninian's tombolo|
This time the prevailing weather was coming from the North - this meant that the south end of Shetland was much more sheltered than usual - but the little bit of wind that was around was a wee bit fresher than on the last couple of visits.
The other thing that struck me this weekend was that the sound track to the weekend was different. Earlier in year the regular sounds are the oystercatchers, redshanks and terns, and on the cliffs the regular chatter of the fulmars and guillemots. The prevailing sound I can still hear from the weekend is the honk of the skeins of migrating geese passing overhead. Each evening there were big groups of geese dropping into the fields around the house at twilight - and getting away again long before I get to the point of pulling back the curtains in the morning.
A bonus of the clear northerly winds is that it often means that the air is very clear - so Fair Isle, 25 miles away across the Roost, looks as if it is a lot closer.
|Fair Isle, with Lady's Holm in the foreground|
As the nights get longer and darker, one of the things I always hope to see at this time of year is the aurora borealis - locally the Mirrie Dancers. And we did indeed get a brief (but not very clear) sight of the Dancers one evening. However I’ve now added another optical natural phenomenon to my Shetland wish list. Mareel.
If you google “mareel" you’ll almost certainly get told about the splendid arts centre that opened in Lerwick a couple of years ago. There is another meaning.
If you google “mareel luminescence” you get into the fascinating world of Noctiluca Scintillans or Sea Sparkle, and you’ll find that there is a special Shetland word for this sort of bioluminscence. I really am going to have to start exploring the Shetland beaches at night this winter.