There’s an almost mythical island which you may have heard of, drifting to the west, dipping in and out of view. Here the clouds and mountains mimic each others shapes, merging sky and mountain into an impossible tantalising illusion.
Some days the clouds sink so low that the island disappears altogether into the clouds, becoming one with the sky. Other days the mountains throw off their cloud cloaks, proudly baring their rock peaks to the sun, in a naked blue sky. But my favourite days are the ones where the hills shyly lift their veil into the gathering light and warmth of the sun. By late afternoon the cloud veils are swirling in impossible dances around the mountain peaks, teasing us with ever shifting scenes of light and shadow, over their smooth sloping shoulders.
The Isle of Skye is such a tease….