I decided I'd better pop down to see how Flash, the new calf was getting on. He is living at the bottom of the croft so off I went down the veg patch to be greeted in the traditional hissing manner by geese numbering four. Apparently, the islands are plagued by grey lag geese that come here to eat the grass since we seem to have altered the world's climate somewhat with our insatiable appetite for burning fossil fuels and now the islands seem a good place for them to be at this time of year. They eat the grass so I'm told, then leave their droppings all over the crofts so when the grass is cut for silage, it gets caught up in the rolls of grass and then starts to rot it. That and the rabbits and frogs that also get sucked into the roll-making machine! Anyway, since the geese cause all these issues with the crofts, why keep white ones?
I passed on by the welcoming geese, taking time to enjoy the light over the Minch that day. That's number 1 North Tolsta down there. Nice position I think.
And there's Flash, running to her Mum away from me as I point the box he hasn't seen before at him. You can see why The Crofter was inspired to call him Flash too. I stayed a while, enjoying the day, breathing in the fresh cool air then sauntered back up the croft again. But not before one of the big coows gave me the eye.
I didn't hang around even though there was a good fence between the beasts and I.
The light was still there glancing a blow on the waves below as the bird sat on the chicken house and waited for some feed to become available. Then I went home.
On the Isle of Lewis off the west coast of mainland Scotland lies a croft inhabited by an English off-comer. His Mum and Dad live nearby and help him run the croft. This is a photographic record of their lives as it unfolds.