We arrived at the bay just as the sun was setting.
As we stepped onto the beach the sun was on the horizon.
Literally within a matter of minutes the sun would drop below the skyline.
Seaward Gott Bay faces east and south.
Often we stand on the pier and watch the sunset.
There you are looking westward across the bay towards Gott.
When we arrived at the bay the tide was out.
We stepped onto a vast expanse of sand.
This was to be for us sunset bay.
First a look west to witness the golden ball on the horizon.
Our walk was eastward but we kept stopping and turning.
This was to look westward and gasp with delight.
Dropping onto the beach we caught sight of the sun through the machair.
Then as we walked on the sand we had a different view.
It was as if the wet sand became a mirror.
The sun as it rested on the horizon was a globe.
Immediately surrounding it the sky was like bronze.
This effect then disappeared as the sun dropped below the skyline.
There were so many different hues.
There was red, and orange and yellow and blue.
The gentle waves caressing the sand took up these colours.
Sanderlings were running along the waters edge.
Sensing our presence they would take off.
Always flying a short distance.
Then dart once again.
The western sky was stratified.
The upper layers were shades of blue
Then there were the different hues from the sunset.
At the far end of the beach there was a line of sea birds.
They stretched right out across the sand towards Soa.
At first we thought that we were seeing things.
Wondering was it really birds?
Turning round we looked out across the water towards Scarinish.
In the distance was Ben Hynish with its Radar station.
In the foreground was the pier.
As we walked back we were reminded this is a working island.
The evening was still with hardly a breath of wind.
Yet there were the lights of a tractor.
While it is dry there is an urgency.
This is a crofting community.
The hours of daylight are fast drawing in.
Yet with a clear sky the gloaming lasted about an hour.
Eventually to the east it was dark but the west still deep red.
This is ‘Life on Tiree’.
When the meteorological autumn thinks it is still summer.