Skye looms on the horizon, glimpsed through squalls of driving rain blown by a ferocious wind; vast, foreboding bluffs rise up from crashing waves, and yet as the eye is drawn along this ancient coastline, angular ciffs give way to undulating lowlands revealed in the enchanting light of the sun as it filters through the ever-opening and closing gaps between wispy clouds.

Along Skye’s northwestern coastline, biting winds lash steep hills and unforgivingly-sheer cliff faces plunge vertically into the icy waters of the North Sea. Hardy highland sheep graze amongst wind-ravaged mounds, and coarse grasses lie pressed to mossy outcrops, almost in deferrence to the relentess power of the highland wind.

This is the isle’s northern extreme. Beyond here, across a short, freezing stretch of water, lie the islands of the Outer Hebrides.

These ancient, prehistoric landscapes are indifferent to the human passage of time. Bitter waves crash against vicious rocks with the same phenomenal power that they did thousands of years ago. Savage winds drive curtains of rain to lash down upon desolate grasslands, and jagged precipices launch upward, tearing through blankets of thick, damp fog as they did centuries before man first trod upon this truly awe-inspiring place.
Copyright Douglas Fenton 2017