Observations from a Week On Isle of Mull
I love the Islands of the North West coast of Scotland. Five trips is enough to know that it is my sort of place. The views are big, the scenery impressive, here is what I saw on a trip to Mull in May
Mull 2023
Mull in May, End of May, Mull is Light
Is almost always light.
There must be some darkness, but it is fleeting and I didn’t really see any.
This is good as the light is spectacular, you can feel it, places shimmer with it,
The air radiates with it.
You can’t see it, but you can feel it.
The sky and water are bluer and clearer.
Nature’s early green is greener.
The air under the beech trees with their new leave growth glows greener.
The light fills everything, it enhances, It sparkles, It intensifies both the visual and emotional sides of your brain.
Mull in May, End of May, Mull is Old
Mull would be old at any time of the year.
There is a feeling of oldness,
There is a slow and patient energy, a background hum of energy, low and deep, barely perceptible.
It is hard to find but when you find it, you can’t shift it. It is there with you.
The basalt columns, The raises beaches,
The rocky outcrops having survived the erosion of the ice, Now sit proud of the surrounding hillsides.
In places there are other energies, lighter and younger, these compliment the old energy.
The trees bridge the gap- between old and young, big trees with stories to tell,
The new growth, tree leaves, bracken in clumps and
Wildflowers, dots of colour, on the grasslands and under the trees.
The old spirts of the land are here,
Now deep in the ground,
But can be felt, still speaking their presence,
The long dead rise at times,
The land alive with old energy,
Be open and receptive to it,
Let it enter you, be aware,
Don’t chase it or look for it, it will run from you, it will hide again.
Feel the deep low hum, the calm of the land, learn from the old and slow, listen to their message. No hurry your time will come.
Mull in May, End of May, Mull is Colourful
The colours are both big and bold and hit you hard in the face, but they also hide, are subtle and need to be looked for.
The blue sky, the blue sea takes your breath away, the green land in between soft and gentle and so many greens.
The blue sky disappears into space, the deep dark blue that goes on forever.
The clear air allows for a deeper blue, more clarity, no pollution, just pure clear air. You can see forever.
The blue sea, dark and deep,
White horses cresting over the blue.
A white dot out to sea, a sailing boat, a ferry or a cruise ship, who knows, standing out clearly against the blue sea,
No sense of scale as to how big or how far away they are. Distance means nothing, when you can’t judge how far.
Sunlight sparkles gold on the sea, especially looking to the West at sunset.
Ribbons of gold turning red as the sun sets lower.
The sky joining in the game, turning flame red and surrounding us with red light and casting fun and spooky silhouettes of rocks and people.
As your eyes bring your gaze to the shore the blue changes, it becomes lighter and friendlier, inviting you in for a swim or glide over on the paddleboard.
Dark area of rock and seaweed under the sea break up the white sand.
Dark and light areas of rock, black and almost brown where the seaweed grows.
Between the dark are lighter blue channels, patches of water where the sand shines through from underneath the water.
The blue colours of the tropics, the water clear, no silt or cloudiness here.
Just pure and clear.
The blue colour range is huge, a palette that would confuse any DIY store.
These colours also change as the light changes, a cloud passes over the sun and everything looks different, sea and land transformed before your eyes. The blue and light switched off and then returns again with the sun, as the cloud passes by pushed along by the wind.
A change in wind direction or speed, the ripples or waves change their colour, a boat passes by and again the sea changes, constantly changing movement and colour. Nothing is static for long.
Follow your eyes to the shore.
Black rock on white sand.
At low tide, black rock extends and becomes brown seaweed as the sea slowly uncovers it treasures again for a few hours.
The sand is so white, how white? So white it should be cold like snow.
The white sand edged by the the high tide line of rotting and dried seaweed, marking the last storm.
The high tide line of white salt on the black rock dotted with driftwood, lobster pots and other spoils from the ocean.
Contrast – white on black, black on white.
Follow your eyes as they bring you closer. You may see pebbles.
Uniform in shape and roundness and size.
Definitely -not uniform in colour, all colours you know are here and some that will be new to you.
New colours you can only marvel at.
Take just one with you, one that catches your eye, it make speak to you, you may not know why you have picked it, don’t question, just go with instinct and feeling.
Just one though, no more.
This area, this varied shoreline, is home to the waders. Mostly brown, but some buck this trend. The black and white feathers of the oyster catchers with their red legs and beaks. All busy about the daily business of collecting food, one eye on the prize and one eye on you.
Watching and checking distance.
When you get too close, a cry goes up, and if in a flock, they take to the skies, nosily flying about to land further down the beach, and they start again. The oyster catchers lure you away with their call, they come close, make a racket and fly away, tempting you to follow them away from their nests.
A heron in his grey coat, fishing, waiting for the fish to come too close to him, before a swift strike and swollen, a glance around, then back to business.
Gulls calling in to strut their stuff on the beach, making their presence felt. Letting everyone know they have landed, menacingly pacing up and down.
A dog runs into this shoreline scene and everyone leaps into the air with various shouts and calls, The dog is called back, circles around and disappears.
Birds come back and settle again with a chatter of disapproval.
Come with me further, lets leave the shoreline and head inland to see what colours we find.
Green is what we find.
Grass, trees, ferns all living together, you can follow them all the way to the other side of the island, to the opposite shore.
The greens like the blues, are multiple in colours,
Dark green leaves, light green leaves and ferns, all colours of green on the grass lands,
The movement of the wind makes them change shade, like the wind on the water, the wind on the land changes the scene from lighter to darker as shade and sun pass over.
Now look harder under the trees, beside the ferns, hiding in the grasslands.
Dots, specks, pools, lakes of colour will open up before you.
But you have to slow down and look.
Here lie the pinks, blues, reds, yellows, oranges and purples, bright and intense.
Many shapes of different colours. Colour changing with the different shapes.
A meadow full of blue and white, dotted with yellow and pinks, all waving in the wind.
Something may catch your eye, a dot of white or light pink, a health orchid standing proud.
Look again, there will another and another, and maybe some more, look around you, there are plenty.
Now you have found one, you will see them. They seem to appear, you just have to find the first one.
A barren area is now full of them. Mind your feet.
Bluebells in the woods and ferns. Daisys on the sheep cropped grass
Many other flowers of different shapes and colours, the area will be full of them, but you have to slow and look. Nestled in the green grasslands or up on the high hillside is the grey of the rock.
Exposed by the glacier action. Rugged and harsh, hard and grey, unforgiving. Or is it?
Look below the crags and there is a soft look to the harsh grey. The screes of erosion soften the hardness, ok not underfoot, but to the eye, from a distance,
And lastly, the jewel of the land and sky. If you are lucky, a buzz of gold may reward you. A Golden Eagle soaring against the green and grey and blue, a flash of gold as it banks and turns,
The sun catching golden feathers and setting them on fire. This view leaves you breathless, heart beat raised, marvelling at the power and majestic sight before you.
So many colours, some subtle and some in your face proud, look deeper and colour and texture will appear and delight. These are moments of magic that make us catch our breath and want to linger longer, looking for more. These little and big moments of awe. Etched in your mind for recalling at a later date, when you need to day dream a moment of calm and beauty to help you through the day.
Mull in May, End of May, May has lots of Water.
Water is very obviously a big part of Mull, You are never far from it.
It is clear, so clear, so cold, crystal clear and cold. So cold.
You have to touch it, whether it is a stream or the sea.
You have to make sure it is real, is it really there?
That feeling of having to put your hand in it. Your eyes see it, but you don’t see it, you see through it. You see what is in it, there is nothing to see in just water, but you see plenty of things.
The water is like the air, clear and pure, no haziness in the air, no cloudiness in the water.
When you put your hand in it, to check it is there, it lets you know it is there.
You feel the cold, it numbs, you have to work hard not to pull away immediately.
Put your body in and it aches as the cold water creeps up your body.
Breathe into the cold and numbness, teach your body that this is ok. Move into the cold. Let is surround you and calm you, cold and breath combining.
Don’t fight it, don’t tense against it, relax and accept it, rejoice in your feeling of triumph over your bodies response to the cold.
Water gives us life, your body will accept it. Share with the animals and plants who live here.
From the paddleboard on the water, it looks and feels very different to being in it.
When there are waves, the surface is changing all the time, the colour, the size of the waves and direction all play their part.
Combine with the wind, blowing your body.
Feel the wind on your body, feel the movement of the water under your feet.
Go with the flow, the movement, don’t fight it, relax, absorb and return.
Rejoice in the movement and see how your body responds, flex and give but stay strong like a tree in the wind, give, don’t break.
But when the water is calm, you glide effortlessly across the clear water.
The underwater world now exposed to our vision.
White sand, black rocks, brown seaweed,
Shells, strands of seaweed, long and bright in the sunlight, gently moving with the currents.
Fish darting away from the shark like shape of the paddleboard moving over them.
There is a whole new world down there.
The paddleboard slides over the surface, a feeling of zero gravity as we move over the water, nothing being disturbed except the tiniest of bow waves and the gentlest splash of the paddle entering and leaving the water. Perfect your technique, make as little splash as possible.
The wind picks up and the underwater world disappears behind the ripples and waves on the surface.
Mull in May, End of May, Mull has Sounds.
Mull engages all your senses and some. Mull feels like a good place.
Time slows, time stands still, as we should. Stand and listen.
The silence is all around, it sounds really quiet.
But then the sounds start to come.
The wind in the trees, a rustle of leaves, oyster catching calling in alarm, a stream,
A flock of geese make their way overhead, honking their passage,
A heron barks it intensions, often to another heron.
A lamb calls for its mother and she replies.
Skylarks and meadow pipits via for air time and air play.
A blackbird warns of our passing as it disappears into the undergrowth.
A robin, acting like a robin, sings us a tune and watches us, follows us for a few steps before darting back to its territory now we have safely passed through. No further action needed.
A car is a rare sound, one or maybe two may drive past, slowly approaching then passing by, the sounds temporarily drowned out by its engine, as it goes on its way the sounds return again.
Crows cawing having fun playing in the wind, swopping their delight and celebrating their acrobatic aerial skills.
Listen carefully for the high pitched mewing or deeper guttural call of a raptor.
Buzzards circling up and around, spiralling until we cannot see them any more.
But it is the eagles we want to see and hear. A pair of golden eagles traversing the rocking ridge line.
Calling to each other, watching for movement, a subtle change in body shape and position and within a few seconds they are gone, like missiles across the sky. They cover the space effortlessly, gracefully and silently, you hold your breath as they dive. In awe of the presence and flying skills.
Wondering how they must feel, how does their body feel. Super keen eyes locked in on a meal, wings and body strong and stable, claws sharp and prepared for impact.
Beware rabbits on the hills side, you may not feel their presence or hear their approach until late. Another sound fills the air.
Mull is a place to learn, Mull is fun. To allow yourself to be more open. To open your eyes, your ears, your mind. Not just to look and hear, but see and listen. I am sure I have just scratched the surface. So may things not seen. So many things felt and not understood. So much more to discover. Transported away to somewhere else. Feel the magic, whatever that means for you. Take what you need. Mull gives freely, it has abundance. I know you will take with respect. Use your instinct to take with care and walk gently. If you feel the need to stop, then stop, look and listen. Open your mind and heart. No judgement. Just reciprocity. Embrace. Share. Savour. Live and grow.