It may well be the end of June, but with the garden thermometer reading only 50 degrees Fahrenheit (yes, I’m still a Fahrenheit girl – Celsius just doesn’t do it for me, never has…), you could easily be fooled into thinking it’s the end of September. A bone-chilling breeze rushes in whitecaps off the Minch again today, sending blow-dry waves through the dune grasses, but keeping the dreaded Scottish midge at bay.
These wee beasties thrive on warm, damp and calm conditions and are the scourge of the Scottish summer. They’re renowned for ruining just about any outdoor activity, as you’re forced to run for cover when the breeze drops. Normally, by the end of June, the daily midge count is a major preoccupation here on the west coast. You don’t dare step outside without first checking to see if there’s enough breeze to keep them at bay (they don’t like wind speeds of over 6 mph). But this year, I think most people here would gladly have them back – as that might mean we were actually HAVING a summer!
It seems only the plant-life is happy with this ‘joke’ of a summer. The chilly spring hasn’t really held up any growth, except for maybe the fruiting plants – this time last year I was drowning in strawberries, but it will be another week or so before any will be ready for picking.
The chives which line my path are thriving, as are the foxgloves and peas. I took my camera as I went out to weed yesterday and caught their freshness after the latest soaking…