Fair Isle too was a wonderful and remote place. Inhabited by just 55 people. I wandered on my own enjoying the quiet and the flowers, the views out of the sea. The day we arrived was a special day and a unique experience for us - it was shearing time for the ‘wild’ island sheep. That involves everyone! They have domesticated farmed sheep, but there’s a couple of hundred of the wild ancient breed that wander the highlands all year. The local people walk the steep hills in a big annual round up and drive them to a spot where the shearing and health checks take place. A few people had battery-operated shears, but most used hand clippers. It was fascinating to watch and the islanders were very happy for us to be there chatting to them. Many of us came away with little gifts of fresh-shorn brown wool. A wonderful experience!
I felt a bit like Heathcliff out on the moors.
This is the old chapel. There was a kirk as well
An old village spot with fulmar nestling inside.
These old red phone boxes are dotted over the wee islands - no longer a phone service but they are being used to house defibrillators. Great idea eh!
The island was thick with wild Angelica. The flowers are pretty. It’s part of the carrot family and similar to cow parsley
Och Aye! You can’t have a Scottish scene without thistles - there’s about 20 varieties Not sure what these are but I rather like them in bud stage.
A sweet marsh orchid
Massed thrift
Eggs and bacon (birdsfoot trefoil)
The first bunch of sheep penned for shearing. Each islander had an allocation of a certain number of sheep but they look out for each other’s
This man was pulling the wool off. Looked easy.
The man took a long time to shear this fat ewe l. The fleece was think and dense. He gave me some of her wool to take home.
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