One swallow doth not a summer make

Ben Cruachan across the Sound of Mull

A trip to Mull, Iona and Staffa seemed like a good idea especially if there was a chance of seeing sea eagles or even a sea eagle

Iona Abbey

Unfortunately, the weather had other ideas. The bitter Arctic wind made exploring the islands into a test of stamina and meant that prolonged standing about of the kind required for sea eagle spotting was only for the most determined. We did see two golden eagles and a good number of ravens, some goldeneye and grey herons but nary an erne.

We didn't managed a sea trip to Staffa as the swell was too great for the boat to cope so no puffins or dolphins either.

On Iona, we noted a house in the lea of a small hill called Dunsmeorach, literally "the hill of thrush" in Gaelic, though no thrushes not even a storm cock, were singing in that wind.

No sea eagles then, but I did spot a swallow come winging in against the gale. All the way from Africa to such a poor welcome. You have to admire their sheer perseverance, fighting their way north against the freezing winds with not a midgie for sustenance.

Back home, I saw one of the same hunched on the telephone wire above the snow covered street.

 

I can put out meal worms for the thrushes to help them through the lean times but I can't conjure up flies for the swallow. What weather is this for May!