When Galloway was like Corsica
Around this time of year, we notice the swallows by their absence. One day they are here, the next they are gone as they leave Ross Bay Retreat and begin their incredible migration thousands of miles south. We miss them darting about the skies overhead, building nests and raising their young, and perching on the telephone wires, for what looks in the evenings like a good natter and catch up on the events of the day.
The changing season is a good time to fix in mind the summer, when for several weeks Galloway was a bit like Corsica. Bear with me while I explain! We had unbroken sunshine for weeks, the hottest we’ve known it here (good weather for seasonal farm jobs, especially hay making). The crags and rocks along the coast were warm to the touch, amongst them and the lanes which wind through them the scent of wild roses and honeysuckle rose in the heat and still air. Some days the sea was like a warm bath, lovely to wash off the dust from the dry footpaths and the white sand from so many of the glorious beaches around us. Families swimming, a variety of boats on the water. Something to carry in our hearts as we head into Autumn, which brings its own pleasures but I’ll write about those next time. (Liz Woodham)
