A visit to St.Agnes, Isles of Scilly


Days blur into weeks, sky, sea and land continue to fascinate on a daily basis. It's all about clouds and light and an endless kaleidoscope of colours, textures, smells and memories to store.

Yesterday I popped over to St. Agnes, being a mere mile wide and one of the smallest of the five inhabited islands of Scilly. I scurried along to the sandbar which joins the island of Gugh to St.Agnes at low tide. Overwhelmed by memories of sandy sandwiches I am jolted into the present by a sudden squall of lashing rain. Remembering a large overhanging rock of bygone days I sit in silence and savour it all. I cannot believe I did not pack my rainproof, not such a Scilly guru after all.... Later on I congratulate myself for remembering the suncream.


I head towards the unmissable rock formation known as the 'Nags Head'. If distinctive stones and ancient rock formations are your thing you won't be disappointed. To keep spirits and strength up I nipped into the very well stocked post office and secured myself a Cadbury's Curly Wurly so that I could chew whilst I contemplated the dizzying array of stones. I found myself completely alone, I breathed in the solitude, save for a solitary deeply luscious brown cow busy munching away, the end result eventually being turned into creamy and dreamy ice cream. (I  had a quick sample)...


Stumbled into a cat doing a spot of what I enjoy most 'dollydaydreaming' perched in a rather masterful way on an old wooden gate soaking up the warmth of the sun.


On my arrival back at St.Martins I am hugely tempted by the thought of a cream tea with lashings of clotted cream and oozing strawberry jam on warm crumbly scones in the sheltered garden of the Karma St.Martins hotel. Savio spies me, 'the VIP entrance awaits you' he calls, and I am sorely torn but sense prevails...

The sky is beckoning, a free for all spectacular is forming amongst the billowing clouds above.  For a split second I am distracted by the light flooding an old greenhouse but push myself through the narrow sandy paths and ferns turning their autumnal colours to the highest point on the island.  I shudder, it is majestic, awe inspiring and I cannot believe I have the luck to be here.


The light is phenomenal.


I stand there, I give thanks, I count my blessings.  I go to the pub where the low hum of life dances amongst the clinking of glasses and the flickering candles. We walk home in the utter pitch black. There is no light polution on Scilly. Amongst the thousands of twinkling stars and the Milky Way so clear it halts you in your tracks I spy a lone shooting star.

Did I make a wish ?  No, to wish for more would be pure greed.

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