As forecast, the sunshine lasted only one day and Sunday was dismally grey, with the clouds drifting low over the hills once again. But at the very last minute before dusk, the setting sun managed to break through a wee gap in the heavy bank of cloud, and illuminated some of the ridges with a faint magenta glow. Algy perched on a cold rock to watch for a moment or two, knowing that in just a few minutes more the light and the colour would be gone…

At long last, there was a full day of sunshine – as full, that is, as was possible at this time of year, when the sun sank down behind the ridge at 3 o’clock. That was a noticeable advance on a few weeks ago, however, and Algy knew that every day now would be longer than the last… even when the sun didn’t shine! He found himself a perch in a young pine tree, and although the wind was bitterly cold, he sang a sunny song, as the other birds were doing, before the sun vanished behind the hill once again. Algy was fascinated to see that the notes of his song were coloured bright green and purple as they drifted away on the wind…

Algy wishes you all a happy weekend, and hopes that you will find a moment or two to sing a sunny song, even if the wind feels bitterly cold 🙂

The sunshine lasted only a few hours, and by the next day the Scotch mist had descended again and the world had vanished once more. With such a dense, wet blanket blocking out the sky, and such a pale sun as there was behind the mist barely managing to rise above the horizon, the day was dismal at best… and exceedingly damp. But when Algy wandered around his assistant’s garden, wondering what to do with himself in endlessly miserable weather, he was delighted to see that the first snowdrops of the year were starting to flower, like a few scattered lights emerging cautiously from the darkness. As he gazed at the tiny flowers in the dim, dark depths of winter, Algy was reminded of a poem written many years ago… by a Bishop…

Flower of the Snow!—we hail thy birth,
Though cold and pale may be thy shrine,
A promise from all bounteous earth
To glad our northern clime.
Thou com’st to soothe us, star-like flower!
To check our dark despair;
And in the dim and wintry hour
To whisper God is there.
Sweet gem!—how like a faithful friend
Dost cheer our lonely hearth,
And, mid the world’s unkindness, lend
Thy light around our path.

Algy dedicates this post, and his first snowdrops of the year, to his special friends who understand only too well the need to check that dark despair… 

[Algy is quoting the poem To The Snowdrop by the 19th century English writer and cleric, Edward Henry Bickersteth, Bishop of Exeter, who is mainly remembered for writing the lyrics of some famous Christian hymns, such as Lead, Kindly Light and Nearer, My God, to Thee.]

When Algy felt sure that the wind was beginning to die down, he picked himself up, brushed himself off, and hopped back up into the hedge. The gale had at least brought some clearer air, and although Algy knew it was unlikely to last, he was greatly relieved to see a wee bit of sunshine and blue sky for a change. In the distance, the largest island was covered in snow, shining white against the mass of dark clouds beyond it, which would no doubt make the island shine even more brightly in due course…

Algy wishes you all a happy Sunday, and hopes that the sun will shine kindly on you today 🙂

The bitter northerly gale just blew and blew and blew, and although he was tucked well into the evergreen cypress hedge, Algy was battered and buffeted until he was completely dizzy. He held on to the branches as tightly as he could, rocking and swaying and shivering and shaking, but eventually he could hold on no longer, and as he lost his grip the entire world spun round and round.

Algy hopes that you will all have a calm and peaceful weekend 🙂

And a few minutes later, Algy knew for sure that he should have retreated to the safety of his assistant’s house…

The northerly gale continued to roar across the Scottish Higlands, straight out of the arctic, bringing frequent biting showers of hurtling snow and icy hail. Algy took cover in an evergreen cypress hedge, but it only afforded a modicum of protection, and as his assistant took his photograph, Algy’s reproachful gaze reminded her that possibly a fluffy bird would rather be snuggled up with his fluffy friends in a nice warm place on such a day, instead of being obliged to pose for photos in the teeth of the gale…

The storm arrived on schedule, and as the gale roared across the ocean it whipped the sea up into a frenzy, creating huge, overtopping waves which crashed and tumbled over each other as they raced to batter the shore. Although Algy enjoyed watching the spectacle, the weather was undoubtedly harsh, and maybe just a wee bit dangerous for a fluffy bird, so he pressed himself tightly against a sheltering rock and kept as low to the ground as possible. From time to time, frantic swirls of snowflakes whizzed around him in every direction, driven by sudden, huge gusts of wind. There was no doubt that it was not a fit day out for man nor beast, and before very long Algy decided that it might possibly be wiser to retreat to a more sheltered spot while he still had the chance…

When Algy woke the next morning, he found that the Scotch mist had descended again, and it was even darker and gloomier than before, and exceedingly damp.

The forecasters were saying that a big storm was on its way, but for the moment it was calm, although very dreich and dismal. Algy decided that in conditions such as these, more hugs were needed, so he took his little blue monster out to see the daffodils emerging from the ground, and gave it a great big fluffy hug 🙂

Have you hugged your monster today? Algy sends lots of extra fluffy hugs to all those who may be in need of extra hugs today xoxo

Algy’s monster was sent to him by @monster-hugs some years ago, and travelled thousands of miles around the world, just to keep him company and give him someone extra to hug 🙂

On the fourth day the mist finally lifted, and gave way to a squally succession of huge black clouds and brief bright intervals, moving rapidly across the land from the west. There were frequent showers of rain mixed with icy hail, and in one such outburst Algy decided to take cover under a large fir tree. Perching comfortably on a convenient log, he looked out at the weather passing by. The forecasters were saying that another big Atlantic storm would blast the West Highlands in the middle of the week, and then it would get much colder.

As Algy sheltered under the tree, he thought of Robert Burns’ famous poem about the winter, and of all his friends in Europe and beyond who were experiencing unusually harsh winter weather at the moment.

Algy hopes that you will all be able to find shelter and keep warm in these severe conditions – and will take care of his little feathered friends too! He sends you all lots of extra fluffy hugs, just in case! xoxo

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r,
        Far south the lift,
Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r,
        Or whirling drift:

Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,
Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,
While burns, wi’ snawy wreeths upchoked,
        Wild-eddying swirl,
Or thro’ the mining outlet bocked,
        Down headlong hurl.

List’ning, the doors an’ winnocks rattle,
I thought me on the ourie cattle,
Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle
        O’ winter war,
And thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle,
        Beneath a scar.

Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing!
That, in the merry months o’ spring,
Delighted me to hear thee sing,
        What comes o’ thee?
Whare wilt thou cow’r thy chittering wing
        An’ close thy e’e?

[Algy is quoting some of the verses of the poem A Winter Night by the 18th century Scottish poet Robert Burns… who wrote in the Scots language 🙂 ]