Jonathan >

Overnight, the sunny warm weather of the past week or more gave way to wind and rain. My morning rounds of the croft were in wellies and full waterproofs. The sheep didn’t think I’d climb the hill to feed them – I had to go and find them, sheltering from the cold rain driving in from the north-east. Thank heavens that I finished shearing  morning!

Heading back to the hill gate and our own croft, the sheep followed me as far as where a stream winds through a little gap in the rocky landscape, and there’s lush grass and shelter. For much of its route, the stream is incised into a slot worn down over hundreds of years, but in the middle of this sheltered dell the stream – swollen by the overnight rain, tumbles over a patch of exposed bare rock. As I lengthened my stride across the slippery rock, I caught sight of something moving below me: an old woody heather stem, carried by the water, I thought ; but heather stems don’t wriggle and writhe and are certainly not 40cm/15in or so long …

As it wriggled, snake-like, upstream towards the security of a patch of overhanging goat willow, I could see that it was in fact an eel on the rocks …

Something in my brain clicked, as a patchwork of memories linked up …

So, last July, in similar weather, what I caught sight of in the corner of my eye – something large and dark disappearing into a (different) thicket of goat willow – in our High Field, in fact, would indeed have been an otter, as I suspected – and not a figment of my imagination.  If you’ve never seen an otter trying to eat an eal, then you’ve never properly laughed.  Oh my, but they are so strong and wriggly and slimy-slippery!

There is much more to Eriskay than meets the eye.  It’s not the devil that’s in the detail, but the delights!