I came here by ferry, along with the police and their car, the granite worktops van from Kirkcaldy, a flat-top lorry carrying a large generator, the stores van, and sundry others.
☚ I am staying here: that is the view back down towards the pier. The fuchsia thicket is in flower. There are yellow flags in the ditches along the road. There are primroses, and bluebells, and bog myrtle, and many other items known to botanists.*
There are trees, of a normal height and not bent in one direction by the wind. I find this disconcerting in an island. A cuckoo lives in the trees opposite my bedroom window. I find this noisy in the early morning.
I have further information about where I am. I can tell you about the sheep and the honey and the Iron Age hill forts and the brewery and how many children are in the school and which lighthouses I have seen. But I must save all this for tomorrow in case it rains.
*We are worried, however, about the junipers, which seem reluctant to produce any male cones or any female ones either. The reproductive life of juniper is evidently complex. I only know all this from the people doing the botany walk that I didn’t go on this afternoon, which is a good move if your idea of a walk doesn’t include twenty-minute pauses for intimate juniper inspection at irregular intervals.
K: Perhaps you could suggest that the reproductive success of the junipers would be helped by some privacy?