I haven’t been to Yell (the next island north) for ages (2017 last time).  A friend asked me to go on a day trip with her and so off we went.

Obviously it involved the twenty minute ferry trip from Toft (mainland Shetland) to Ulsta (Yell).

It was a perfect blue-sky day.

We decided to drive on the scenic coastal route around Yell and when The White Wife was mentioned, I said I would love to see her.

She was not easiest to find and, after one false start and a bit of a wander, The White Wife was located.

She just looked like she was waiting, forever waiting.

And what is her history?  The lady stands looking out across the bay, with a Bible held to her chest.  She is the reconstructed figurehead of the Bohus, a German sail training vessel which sank at the Ness of Queyon in 1924, with a crew of 39, many of them young cadets, and the loss of 4 lives.

Made of wood and in bad need of repair/restoration.  I suppose the elements are less than kind to her and she takes quite a battering.

We drove on and Yell was glorious.

One of my favourite pastimes is going into local shops to see what treasures are inside and so we stopped at “Mary’s shop” in Aywick – truly a goldmine of incredible finds. If they don’t have it, you don’t need it!

And then on up to the north of the island – Cullivoe.

And I met a lady who does very clever things with fleece – she makes the most perfect natural fleece rugs (‘Bert and ‘Ster – where are your’s? – I have a plan).

And then lastly on to see some old friends – one of my most favourite Shetland ponies – Wubby.

I tell myself he remembered me.

He was just the same as ever.

Plus these two hopeful angels – Rody and Fraser.

What a wonderful day. It did me the world of good. I needed to have some time away.

Now off to find ‘Bert and ‘Ster’s fleeces……

An easy day today (my back was kicking up about yesterday’s horsevan ramp) and on my way home, I went to visit Leradale (Minion winter quarters) to see how it was getting on in their absence.

Everything was growing furiously and there were carpets of flowers in patches all over.

Leradale is very different in the summer.

It is easy to see why folk lived here over 2500 years ago. I could almost watch and hear them.

I had a huge urge to sit in the flowers with a good book, a bottle of chilled Chablis and just relax (and now I have thought of this, I must just have to).

Anyone want to come too and share the bottle?

This could be my summer piece of heaven.

Daisy and I loaded up the horsevan with all our relevant accoutrement, including Iacs and Haakon.  En route, we picked up a friend and I handed her my camera, briefly explained how it worked and put her in charge of photography.

We unloaded at Sand beach – mind, I said I was planning a trip last week.  Unloaded and tacked up.

We decided to lead the boys down to the beach as it is steep and they don’t know the terrain.

On we got and I had one worrying moment when I lost the reins while clipping my air-jacket to the saddle!

Panic over, and off we set – me now with the reins (always useful).

We were going along fairly nicely……

…. when Haakon decided he was no longer the brave bunny he thought he was.  On the way down the beach he swerved or planted at just about everything, which was frustrating.

There were a few folk and families on the beach.

Once we had reached the far end, we turned on a sixpence and Iacs cantered back while Haakon determinedly piggy-paced.

I knew Haakon used to love the sea so I turned him round and let him investigate it a bit more.

It all came flooding back to him – quite literally!

And then we did lots of sploshing up and down the beach.

And Daisy did her cantering thing (so jealous).

And I had my mouth open and feet stuck out while we piggy-paced along.

Though, interestingly, Haakon would tölt in the sea.

It really was beyond fantastic.

Just like old times. I never thought I would have this again.

We definitely need to do this again.

The old men loved it.

And then we loaded them up and went back home.

Never have I ever….

……. (I sat and waited)….

And my little sparrow prodded and preened a bit…..

…. stretched his wings…..

… and proceeded to take a good bath just a yard away from me.

He didn’t seem to mind me taking photos with my large noisy camera. I am pretty sure he is a little boy sparrow based on his colour and markings.

I think he enjoyed himself very much and felt much refreshed after his bath.

So I can cross that off my Bucket List of things I have never ever’ed.  I must’ve stood watching a sparrow having a bath for as long as he wanted – he did fly off once finished.  For me it is the little things in nature that I find fascinating.  I have also had a day of ragworting so I am exhausted and can barely move now.

(sorry if you are now bored to tears).

I have a little flock of sheeple who are all finally sort of getting along together.

And ‘Ster.

There are the occiasional “us and them” moments, though but that is when I am with them.  They argue about me and who talks to me.

Lambie is the very worst for it.  He looks out for Missy coming to talk so he can go and chase her off.  There is only little lamb in his book and that’s him!

‘Bert is obviously a saint.

And ‘Ster is also green with envy.  He has always been needy.

And Missy is an enchantment.  A total delight.

I could sit and hug her all day.

She would rather nibble while she chats rather than be cuddled.

Her Mum, Edna, is very cuddly.  Madge remains aloof.  They both look pretty good, though.  I am pleased.

So my little flock are sort of gelling as a group.  The boys don’t feel the call of the hill (common grazing) half as much these days. They rarely go there and don’t ask to either, which is good and something I was trying to discourage anyway.

And as I walked back to the house, I looked behind me and saw Lambie crossing the stream too. He was trying hard not to get his feet wet.

It made me think of this photo that I took 5 years before when he refused to get his hooves wet and Daisy had to carry him over. He was so sweet when he was little.  Ooof!