Feeling the seasons
Glenbranter Bluebells
One wedding and a funeral. Not quite the makings of a Richard Curtis masterpiece, but May saw me dusting off suits and ties in place of my usual, seasonal ‘fleece and shorts’ combo. A few shiny days have boosted spirits and solar batteries, but it’s generally been chilly and breezy up here. Cool northerly air flows and choppy waters have limited opportunities for calm, coastal reflection shots. But inland, the Bluebells have been fabulous. In truth, all May’s blossoms have been glorious. Rhododendrons and Azaleas in every garish hue, underpinned by starry white Wood Anemones and masses of Wild Garlic. Food for the senses and the bees. Everywhere is lush and green.
We all know what happens next…
The bracken begins inexorably to unfurl, eventually stifling all in its vicinity. The winds shift to a warmer, wetter south-westerly direction. The cuckoo calls. Atlantic lows push in rain clouds, and the midges begin to emerge. Just in time for my overseas visitors to arrive. We take the opportunities that sunshine or gentle breezes bring to play outside, and retreat indoors for laughs and whisky after the sun sets and the night goes still. Thankfully, I barely register the midges now - immunity develops over many years and many bites. This isn’t the case for my wife and some of my friends, who suffer terribly.
Swallows and House Martins arrive from their African homes in time to swoop around the houses and munch as many midges as their tiny beaks can capture. The hot weather that so many in other parts of the country have enjoyed / endured, finally arrives for the final week of May. It’s too hot, and now I’m inside, writing this instead of shooting my latest commission piece. In Scotland, we truly feel those changing seasons, especially when they all arrive in a single month.
