Having been born-and-bred in the softy south of England, I became very used to the year having four distinct seasons, each lasting around three months, with the summer being warm and dry, winter being colder and wetter, spring being bright and showery, and autumn being breezy and golden.
It's not like that here.
We pretty much only have one season on Skye, which is a continual confusion of all of the above. Winter starts around mid-August, and goes on for an awful long time. When my southern-trained body-clock is telling me that it should be spring, I find myself peering at tightly closed leaf buds on the trees and shrubs in the hope of spotting the first sign of a green shoot. When the calendar says it is July - true, the daylight hours are very long indeed, but the sun may still be a rare sight, and the wind can blast the drizzle into your face should you venture outside.
Somehow though, our flora and fauna seem to cope with the season-less year. My recent wild-flower photo-posts illustrate the ability of the plant-life here to flourish when and where it gets the chance. I manage to successfully nurture vegetables in the allotment. From April for a few months, there seem to be plenty of fledgling birds about the place, and we occasionally glimpse a mouse, vole, weasel or stoat, so they survive here, too. But sadly - never a hedgehog.
And.... the sky can be blue sometimes..!! At any time of year, too. In can happen suddenly. The wind drops, the rain stops, and the steel-grey clouds magically vanish to reveal the freshly-washed glistening blue heavens, which instantly paint the sea an even more unlikely blue. At these times, we cherish every moment and sigh at the beauty of the vista before us.
I can live without seasons.