shewhomust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shewhomust) wrote2009-06-27 09:41 pm
shewhomust) wrote2009-06-27 09:41 pm
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A house with two views
We could probably, if we tried, find a more spacious, or more modern, or more lavishly equipped house on Holy Island than 3, Herring Houses, the one we have taken to renting at midsummer, year after year. But we don't try, because we are comfortable there, and because we couldn't possibly find a better situated house.
Herring Houses is the group of buildings in the middle ground of this photo from last year, an old herring smokery right by the harbour. 'Our' house is the middle third of the large block which forms the back of the courtyard, with lower houses forming the wings on either side. The front windows look out across the harbour to the castle, and beyond to Bamburgh Castle and the Farne Islands. The back widows look across two fields, to the Priory and the village. If you aren't doing something else, you can always just pause and look out of the window; it's always a pleasure, but sometimes the pleasure is an unexpected one.
We returned from the Lindisfarne Hotel in bright evening sun, but by the time I'd made a salad for dinner, the mist which had been thin but persistent during our boat trip was creeping down the coast: we couldn't see the Farnes, then we couldn't see Bamburgh, and not long after, when D. arrived back from Edinburgh, we couldn't even see Lindisfarne Castle.
Sea fret is nothing to be susprised at, and yet I was - we've seen plenty of grey days on the island, and the odd really heavy downpour, but this lingering veil of mist was new, and it lasted to a greater or lesser degree for the rest of our stay.
But I could still lie in bed and listen to the curlew calling, out by the harbour.
There was more excitement in the view from the kitchen window. It looks straight out along a dry stone wall, the boundary between two fields, and immediately below the window, in the lowest corner of the field is a patch of nettles, which seems to be the home of a pair of weasels.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
durham_rambler saw them first - in fact I only ever saw one of them, nothing more than a flash of movement at first, but then quite clearly visible among the nettles, finally emerging onto the wall - lithe brown body, white underneath, black tip to the tail, quite unmistakable. He vanished almost at once, but hoping he might reappear added a certain spice to the washing up.
Herring Houses is the group of buildings in the middle ground of this photo from last year, an old herring smokery right by the harbour. 'Our' house is the middle third of the large block which forms the back of the courtyard, with lower houses forming the wings on either side. The front windows look out across the harbour to the castle, and beyond to Bamburgh Castle and the Farne Islands. The back widows look across two fields, to the Priory and the village. If you aren't doing something else, you can always just pause and look out of the window; it's always a pleasure, but sometimes the pleasure is an unexpected one.
We returned from the Lindisfarne Hotel in bright evening sun, but by the time I'd made a salad for dinner, the mist which had been thin but persistent during our boat trip was creeping down the coast: we couldn't see the Farnes, then we couldn't see Bamburgh, and not long after, when D. arrived back from Edinburgh, we couldn't even see Lindisfarne Castle.
Sea fret is nothing to be susprised at, and yet I was - we've seen plenty of grey days on the island, and the odd really heavy downpour, but this lingering veil of mist was new, and it lasted to a greater or lesser degree for the rest of our stay.
But I could still lie in bed and listen to the curlew calling, out by the harbour.
There was more excitement in the view from the kitchen window. It looks straight out along a dry stone wall, the boundary between two fields, and immediately below the window, in the lowest corner of the field is a patch of nettles, which seems to be the home of a pair of weasels.
durham_rambler saw them first - in fact I only ever saw one of them, nothing more than a flash of movement at first, but then quite clearly visible among the nettles, finally emerging onto the wall - lithe brown body, white underneath, black tip to the tail, quite unmistakable. He vanished almost at once, but hoping he might reappear added a certain spice to the washing up.
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Best illustration ever.
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I would absolutely love to see Lindisfarne and environs. Now that I have all my lenses I'm tremendously frustrated by not having a spare penny for travel this year.
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(and I hope that you're having a lovely time on your current adventure)
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