South Uist Before me is a curve of white sand and a lazy sea of glorious Hebridean blue, breaking with a gentle whisper on to the shore
It’s the best kind of late summer day, with bright sunshine and a temperature as high as anything we’ve had this year. The smell of new-mown grass carries on the warm breeze and from a few fields away comes the muted drone of a tractor. Emerging from under the bridge the river curves sinuously as it crosses the sand on the final stage of its journey to the sea. But unlike it, rather than heading for the beach I take the path behind the low dunes. It is edged by a riot of plants, some still in flower.
The violet-blue flowers of common vetch stand out from the luxuriant tangle of its intertwining leaves, while clumps of purple thistle-like hardheads rise above them. The remains of umbelliferous hogweed, dried ochre seed-heads atop brittle, ridged stems, make sculptural statements amid the foliage. Scattered liberally throughout are the cheerful yellows of the autumn hawkbit.
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Source: Guardian Environment