Here in the Outer Hebrides Monday the 21st June was officially the longest day of the year. The sun rose in Stornoway at 4.20am and set at 10.34pm. In reality at this latitude an 18 hour day means that dusk and dawn virtually meet. With clear skies and a full moon just three days away Monday evening was the perfect time to enjoy a get together with friends on the beach. After a busy day in the Brewshed and the local community shop, Nick and I grabbed the camping chairs and some bottles of beer and headed to Scarista Beach to meet with friends.
Scarista or Sgarasta Mhòr in Gaelic is one of the hardest won beaches in Harris but also one of the most spectacular.
The white shell sands run in a crescent between Ceapabhal, a 300m high promontory at its western end and the Marram grass dunes at Borve. To reach the beach we parked in the gravel lay-by at the end of the salt marsh. We followed the sand path through a five bar gate and onto the grazings where we were eagerly met by newly sheared ewes hoping for food. We passed the old bus which, although now rather weather worn, was for many years a meeting place for the local scout group. Tucked into the dunes next to the beach, many an adventure must have started from this unlikely meeting place.
My own memories of Scarista go back to the early 80's. When I was around ten years old my cousins and I set out along this same route heading excitedly to the beach. Half way across the dunes we were attacked from above. Unknown to us, hundreds of terns were nesting in the sand and were protecting their chicks by dive bombing us! Fortunately, forty years on our trek to the beach was this time much less eventful.
As we left the grazings we were met with the machair in full flower. Machair is a Gaelic word which describes the fertile low lying grassy plains that flank the exposed Western coasts of Scotland and Ireland. This time of year the predominant colour of the machair flowers is yellow with bird's foot trefoil winning out against the white clover. As we passed through the last of the dunes our view widened to take in the backdrop of the North Harris hills, the vast sands and the expanse of the Atlantic. We have now lived in Harris for seven years and the stunning beaches and mountains and seascapes still take our breath away.
In Scotland the traditional festival of Beltane (Latha Bealltainn in Gaelic) was celebrated between the Spring and Summer Equinoxes. Rituals were performed to protect the cattle, crops and people, and to encourage growth. Special bonfires were kindled, and their flames, smoke and ashes were deemed to have protective powers.
We came well prepared for our own Baltane festivities with a feast of cheeses and oatcakes, homemade tiffin, wine and beer. To celebrate the start of the summer we opened the first bottles of Gorse Beer made with Leverburgh's finest flowers picked just three miles from Scarista. After many hours of laughter, conversation and friendship the fire had burnt low and at one o'clock in the morning we buried the last of the fire's embers, packed our bags and made our way back past the Scout's bus and the hungry sheep to the car.
As the days start to draw in we are grateful for this amazing island, our lovely friends and the beauty of each season living and brewing in Harris.
Happy Beltane everyone!
