I Shall Miss

Scarinish at 7am on Wednesday 16th July 2025

The For Sale sign slightly obscures an otherwise clear view of the sea glistening in the sun.  It often does this and I shall miss it.  I shall miss the Tiree sky; vast, beautiful, it is a cloudless hazy blue with candyfloss-pink skirting the horizon. I can hear lambs and ewes meh-ing (it strikes me now, how we tend to say that sheep meh rather than baa).  I can also hear waves gently lap on the shore, despite that the ocean is almost a hundred metres from where I sit. It’s a calm day. It’s the kind of day that makes you feel happy despite yourself.

I shall miss not locking my car and leaving the keys in clear view so that anyone could move it if they needed to.  I don’t know anyone who locks their car.  A car alarm going off is a visitor sound.

I shall miss being in a place where many think they know everyone when they don’t know most at all but somehow it doesn’t matter.

Gott Pier July 2025

I shall miss the gentle, unhurried ways in which trust is woven through daily life here. Small kindnesses are taken for granted, necessities shared without question or hesitation, and bartering commonplace. I shall miss familiar faces in the queue, the easy chatter at the post office, and the way that news, both good and bad, confirmed and unconfirmed, travels at the speed of light.

I shall miss the freedom of being able to walk safely anywhere, at any time of night and the comfort of sleeping peacefully in an unlocked house.

I shall miss telling the occasional stranger who had arrived for the day with no notion they’d need transport, “there’s a car outside – take it – I won’t need it until we close.”  They almost always viewed me suspiciously at first, as though I’d been let out for the day. Since twelve miles was the furthest out of reach they could get, short of driving it into the sea, I reasoned it was unlikely to come to harm and it never did.

I shall miss patience and tolerance for all things inanimate and the occasional Trade. Things will not be hurried here. Food will always get here, you need never go hungry, but it won’t always be what you want or like and it won’t have the same shelf life as that on the mainland. Deliveries will take longer than you expect and twice as long as hoped. Services and repairs such as plumbing and electrics take a little longer still. You will wait. And wait. And want to kill. And wait. And turn to meditation. And hummmmm. And then you will learn how to use YouTube.

I shall miss the silence.  It was never uncomfortable and it was never total. The breeze, the ocean waves, cattle bellowing, lambs looking for ewes, birds cawing above, the approach of a car.  Gentle, soothing noises that became, over time, part of the silence.

I shall miss knowing that the shop keys were always within grasp of any stranger at any time. For close to ten years, they were only ever in plain sight in my unlocked car when the shop was closed. Otherwise they were on the shop counter.  Not for a second did it ever occur to me that my insurance would be null and void if the keys were taken and used.  Why would anyone take the keys? 

I shall miss very rainy days when I would plead to relieve walkers and cyclists of sodden jackets, hats and gloves so that I could pop them in the dryer for five minutes whilst they had coffee in the warmth. It was the smallest and simplest of gestures but, my, the sigh of sheer gratitude from those who donned dry and warm clothing afterwards …

I shall miss knowing without being asked where to deliver the service wash its owners had forgotten but needed for an approaching holiday let.  Having the launderette helped me discover more about the island than baking-by-mail ever did during the pandemic.

I shall miss the private healthcare by-any-other-name that is Tiree Medical Practice.  I know of no other island with greater medical cover and better patient care than Tiree. As a patient, there is virtually no wait time for an appointment. There are a minimum of two doctors and three nurses plus administrative staff.  The service and care are excellent. Depending on the time of day, you could be in hospital in Glasgow before you would be if you lived in Glasgow.

I shall miss the timing of the ferry in the morning and customers racing out long before the ferry had shimmied in, docked or tied up.  The fifteen minutes between the ferry approaching and offloading was always our quietest. I shall miss reassuring customers that ferry staff really do want you to get the ferry if you are on standby and will do their best to squeeze you on.

I shall miss baking.  A lot.  And I shall miss baking a lot. I shall miss all of that. It would become more demanding during July and August but outside then, it was always, always a joy and even during those busiest of periods I still found peace and pleasure in it.  Of everything, I shall miss baking most. 

Gott Bay, August 2023

I shall miss the glorious Tiree sand. Running on Gott Bay was a daily pleasure for years. You could stroll for an hour and not reach end to end. Sorobaidh, Traigh Bhi, Salum, Vaul, Balephuil – they are all firm favourites.  Oddly enough, Gott Bay is my least favourite… there, I said it out loud. But it was the best to run on.

May 2025

It should go without saying that I’ll miss Yellow Hare.  I truly enjoyed being there and seeing you all and hearing your news.  There were times when I chose to stay at the shop long after it was closed, sometimes doing admin or having a coffee; it was a good space to relax in for a while. It was my space.  Yellow Hare did not become untenable; it wasn’t ever unviable. It was always a joy and a pleasure to work there.  What changed wasn’t Yellow Hare, it was other things.  Other things unrelated to Yellow Hare made it difficult to do it all. Near the end I deliberately gave the impression that we may keep the house, that we may stay. But that's not the plan. I've never liked goodbyes. Much easier to pretend we weren't going anywhere.

Tiree Music Festival, 5.30pm, Friday 11 July 2025

I shall miss being part of something everyone wanted a bit of.  The island attracts artists, musicians, authors, film-makers, entertainers and producers from all parts of the world and it felt a privilege to be on the fringes of that.

I shall miss you, and you, and you and you and you.  I shall miss you all.

Tiree is special and I shall miss being part of that.

Kate MacLeod July 2025