March 1st, 2008Ferry Pictures
The crossing never fails to delight.
It’s a cold wet day by the time we leave Brodick and it’s only the smokers on deck. Looking back to the island I can’t help but notice the rows of empty seats, looking out to sea. Something jaunty, Victorian, no Edwardian about their colours, their steadfast wait for the stream of day trippers.
Not ten minutes later and the weather’s changed again. Brilliant blue skies over the Ayrshire coast, demanding more pictures. It’s a feast of blues – more sea, I wonder, or more sky? I take some of each, adjusting, admiring as I go.
On the other side of the boat the skies have darkened. Streaks of black rain on the horizon. The faint outline of Ailsa Craig in shadows of darkness and light.
A fishing boat drifts past. As I turn back to watch the boat is perfectly framed: dark clouds, sheets of rain, bright silver sunshine illuminating the water.
Why do I prefer this side of the boat? It’s not just the last look at the island.
It’s the appeal of the dark, the wind and the rain, the edge of the Atlantic, the promise of the islands, the stretch into wildness, the depths of my history, the wildness of the west.
I can resist it no more.
