Clearly crabs are smarter than I am. I shivered as the wind raced through the sound and straight through my non wind-proof clothes. The sea lapped unwelcomingly round my feet, but I was determined to find some crabs (or any rock pool wildlife for that matter) to write about this week.
But what crustacean in its right mind would be out in this weather?! I coughed and spluttered as the wind blew sea spray into my face and down my top. I was soaking, my hands were frozen and I was exceptionally unamused.
All the crabs were sensibly sheltered under water and out of this pounding wind. And I, the idiot, was the only islander willingly out in the freezing cold, hoping to photograph some marine invertebrates.
I scoured the grey, slate covered beach on my hands and knees, prodding hopefully under some rocks to in my quest to find something of interest. Nope, I really was the only one out here. As I stood up, a huge gust of wind blew me off my feet. With an undignified shriek, I did a spectacular Bridget Jones-esqe fall into a pile of slimey seaweed.
Well. I certainly hope no one saw that.
If any dog walkers ask, I’ll confidently inform them it’s a scientific way of attracting crabs.
But I was sure my dog was the only one out for a walk. He was sniffing incessantly at the ground and following a scent trail along the shoreline, totally unconcerned by my fall. There was no telling what he was tracking – but if it was rotting piles of seaweed then he was doing extremely well.
Creaking noises came from a boat moored next to me, its ropes straining under the force of the hammering wind and tide as they tried to push it up the sound and onto the rocks. Oh dear – now I appear to be sinking. Foul-smelling black mud swamped around my ankles. I scanned around for signs of life. Oh come on – just give me a buzzard! A rabbit… even a seagull?
It’s known that animals sense (and flee from) dangerous weather long before us humans know it’s coming. The skies darkened – it looks like it’s going to – OW! Yes, pea-sized stones of ice started pelting me from the heavens and ricocheting off rocks next to me. Time to scarper.
I scrambled back home, photo-less, crab-less and smelling distinctly worse than when I’d set off. The thought of the warm fire and a mug of hot chocolate kept me going through the bitter hail.
Upon arriving home, I saw had a visitor in my porch that was in need of rescuing – blown in by the strong winds. Finally – some wildlife! It’s been so cold, windy and rainy on the island I’ve hardly seen any this week.
A sudden gust of wind brought a smashing of glass as the greenhouse started to shatter. That’s it – for the next week I’m going into hibernation!