As we paddled round the remote Monach Islands, which lie to the West of the outer Hebrides, the mid summer sun began its journey to set in the far north west.
As Cuma swung gently at her anchor, we watched the sunset in appreciative silence. Like the mythical Avalon, St Kilda lay far beyond the western horizon, where the sun met the sea in blaze of crimson fire. We could only hope that the red sky at night bade well, for a settled spell of weather, to reach those long abandoned isles.
01/06/2008
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