The gathering night had all but extinguished the last embers of the day.

 After rounding the Heads of Ayr, the offshore wind drove us to the northeast towards...

 ...the rising full moon...

...and the town of Ayr under a the dusky pink sky.

Away to the northwest, Arran's ridges soared above the gathering sea fog and...

...by the time we made landfall, the gathering night had all but extinguished the last embers of the day.

As if in anticipation of the sun leaving the day.

The SE wind gave us welcome assistance as we made our way north towards the Heads of Ayr.

 As the sun began to sink slowly and steadily below a layer of low cloud...

 ...we were bathed in the most beautiful warm light.

For a moment time seemed to stand still and even the calls of the sea birds died away... 

...as if in anticipation of the sun leaving the day.

After sunset, a chill wind from the SE sprang up and whisked us on, towards the twinkling lights of Ayr.
Photo Philip Toman.

Moonrise over the Heads of Ayr.

 As the sun began to set, an offshore breeze picked up and...

...pushed us on towards the Heads of Ayr.

We revelled in the magic of the moment...

...as the sundowner gathered strength,...

 ...the smells of the land filled our nostrils and...

...the Moon rose over the Heads of Ayr.

The tumbling waters of Drumbane.

 The wind dropped before we got to...

...the ancient castle of Dunure. If the weather had been bad we would have stopped at the pub but...

...it was such a nice day that we continued north to Drumbane and a little bay with a hidden secret.

 A delightful burn tumbles out of a little glen high above the beach.

Its waters flashed and sparkled as they rushed headlong...

...over the rocks and onto the beach...

 ...where they slowed into a lovely pool...

...before spilling over a lip into the sea beyond.

We could have paddled south all day...

The coastline south of Dunure consists of a series of rocky dykes projecting from a raised beach above which an old cliff line has a series of dry sea caves at its base.

Phil and I were enjoying running before the north wind and...

the last of the ebb tide, which were speeding us past...

...the gull colony on the rocks north of Croy.

We could have paddled on south all day but it was now time to turn our backs to the November sun, drop our sails and face the north wind...

Making the most of the late and fleeting Scottish summer!

 When we left Dunure harbour we still had an ebb tide and...

 ...a fair wind to continue south a little longer.

 A flash of paddles on the horizon announced the arrival of another party of kayakers.

It was Julie with 2 friends. We had met her with her husband Tom in these waters just two days before. Everyone was making the most of the late and fleeting Scottish summer!

Dunure harbour.

The ruined walls of Dunure Castle announce our arrival...

...at the fishing village of Dunure.

We kept the sails up...

...as we entered the shelter of...

...of the little harbour for a well deserved break and luncheon in the sun.