ski scotland

Algy put down his book of poetry for a moment and gazed at the scene in front of him, then looked up at the sky. It was BLUE! A beautiful, clear, deep, wonderful blue…

The west coast of the Scottish Highlands experiences more dismal, grey, totally overcast and cloudy skies than most places in the world, but when the clouds do blow away Algy feels an amazing sense of relief, and a delightfully happy experience of blueness. He cannot understand why the colour blue has come to be associated with misery and depression when a clear blue sky and a deep blue sea are among the most beautiful aspects of the world :)

Algy hopes you will all have a happily blue weekend xo


Dark Skies. by Gordie Broon.
Via Flickr:
Ominous clouds heading up Loch Ness.

The West Highlands of Scotland had been enjoying a few days of unusually fine March weather, and although it was cold at night, it was comfortably warm during the day… by Scottish standards, at least :) The sky was blue, the larks were singing, and the pied wagtails had returned after their winter away. Algy knew, of course, that the good weather would not last long, but it certainly made a welcome change, and he was determined to enjoy it while he could. So he lingered late on the beach as the shadows lengthened and the temperatures dropped, until it got too chilly to linger any longer…

love in the dark | part one // newt scamander

Originally posted by ultrailoveharrystylesblog

request: Hi! I first wanted to say that I love your writing! Okay, so I recently came across your blog and I have a request. Of course you don’t have to do it if it doesn’t spark anything inside you but just a suggestion. So I’m not sure if you’re comfortable with song imagine request thingy-mabobs but I’d like to suggest Love in the Dark by Adele. It’s up to your interpretation but I feel that he chorus would most suit an imagine. Again, if the song didn’t spark anything, you don’t have to do it. <3


I’m not sure if I mentioned but this is also part of the song request, Uhm the Adele one, it’s for the lovable bean, newt scamander, if I didn’t address that I’m sorry <3 if I did, I’m sorry for bothering you a second time (by anon)

a/n: ahhhh you’re too sweet !! you guys are never bothering us kay <3 alsO i thought up this emo ass storyline and kiera was trying to kill me because she wants fluff :’-) also for song imagines im not really a fan of inserting lyrics every few paragraphs sos but hopefully this is ok !! [also this was inspired by a chapter on a book on wattpad // of the like: her mama told her]

When you were eight your mother told you never to fall in love and that love was an awful, awful creature that should be avoided at all costs; you listened with rapt attention and bright eyes because your mother was always right and her advice could never be wrong; but your mother knew that years after this very day, her words would be long forgotten and you would grow up and find something magnificent about love because who wouldn’t fall in love with the very idea of loving someone and being loved back?

When you were thirteen you found yourself staring at a sandy-haired boy with beautiful cerulean blue eyes with a Hufflepuff scarf looped around his neck, your cheeks flushing and your heart pounding furiously whenever he entered the room; you found yourself rejecting offer after offer to be accompanied to Hogsmeade - the only boy whom you had been hopelessly enamoured with never saw you as anything more than another classmate - friend, at very best - and you found yourself being horribly disappointed as the days and weeks and months flew by dizzyingly and you found yourself in love with Newt Scamander.

When you were sixteen you had been called into the Headmaster’s office - you sat ramrod straight with sticky cheeks and puffy eyes and trembling fingers, Newt beside you but all you could register was you and life-threatening and expelled and all that was running through your mind was no this can’t be real no please no but it didn’t matter because within an hour you were sitting across Newt on the Hogwarts Express, your veins running cold as you watched the solemn grey skies of Scotland streak by; you and Newt found yourselves lost in London, pale-faced with clammy hands and heavy hearts and lost souls.

Two months later you and Newt were moving from apartment to apartment every few weeks, running from red-faced no-neck landlords with large smiles on your faces and a wild sparkle in your eyes and magnificent laughter escaping from your lips and spending cold nights snuggled up together in a wondrous bundle on thick blankets and warm socks, Newt’s fingers warm against your cold bare skin as both of you exchanged quiet whispers and soft kisses and you were in paradise.

When you were seventeen you caught Newt staring at a photograph of Leta one too many times with a certain melancholy in his eyes and the doubts came creeping in soon after - not good enough and second choice and rebound - but the voices spoke the truth and perhaps that was why they hurt so much; you tried to deny it - you’re wrong get out my head you’re wrong he loves me he loves me he does he does he does - you tried so hard, because you were in paradise and you didn’t want it to end but even angels fell from heaven and you were falling and falling and falling and the ground was coming up fast and you weren’t slowing down.

When you were eighteen you finally snapped; you had arrived back home after a day-long shift at the bookstore down the road, craving Newt’s light touches and butterfly kisses only to see her, dark curls wild and glamorous, onyx eyes glinting under the light, a pair of perfect porcelain legs peeking out from under her little black dress, pressed so closely up against Newt that they had seemed like a single being and you knew that Newt was gone; he’s mine he’s mine you had thought desperately but the voices were chanting he’s not he’s her’s you’ve lost you stupid little thing; your fingers found their way around Newt’s wrist and you dragged him into your bedroom, knuckles white, slamming the door shut and muttering Collorportus and Muffliato for a good measure; you found yourself screaming and shrieking until your throat was hoarse and dry and Newt shouting until his face flushed a bright Hogwarts Express red and tears were streaming down your cheeks and you felt each word leaving his mouth break just a little more each time until it had shattered into shiny broken pieces like the delicate, fragile object it was - oh, god, why hadn’t you listened to your mother?

You were tossing clothes and books and jewellery into your suitcase haphazardly, your wand forgotten in this awful mess as you tried to steady your shaking hands and force back your ugly sobs, not daring to look back at Newt one last time because you were afraid that you would break completely if you did and you grabbed your suitcase in one hand and your wand in the other, Disapparating out of the apartment and into the pouring thunderstorm outside, the frigid coldness running through your veins numbing your mind as you walked away from Newt Scamander for the very last time.

a/n: why am i always so emo on holidays like it lunar new year im supposed to be hApPY but like i cannot mans ack anyways theres gon bE A PART TWO FOR THIS YALL LOOK FORWARDDD and plspls tell me if yall enjoyed this or not i was so stressed writing this wfkbvwkb

- roxanna


i forgot again sdhbvhe // @lazycasserole

Owing to an unusually fine, dry spell of weather in the West Highlands, the cherry blossom lasted much longer than it had in previous years, and it put on a splendid display. Algy was fascinated to discover that the flowers, which had started pure white, began to turn pink as the the days passed and the petals did not fall. He perched happily in the midst of the blossom, and under a sky almost as blue as that of California he sang a special fluffy version of “Happy Birthday” for his friend @qbn-scholar, who lives in that faraway land :)

Dear Fern, Algy hopes that you will have a wonderful birthday, and he sends you lots of beautiful cherry blossom and fluffy birthday hugs xoxo


Good Morning from Scotland

Moray Sunrise by Andrew Watson
Via Flickr:
Great sunrise on the Moray Coast, Scotland. Love the big skies up here!

anonymous asked:

Rumors are circulating that Harry and Meg are at Birkhall with Charles & Camilla

Rumors he is skiing, now Scotland, Cornwall, London he could be anywhere on the planet, those pics of him are old, they prove nothing.

thanks anon

It was a perfectly gorgeous October day, and both the sea and the sky were a deep, deep blue. Days like this were few indeed, so Algy decided to fly over to his favourite lookout point on the peninsula. In Algy’s opinion, the view from this particular place was the most beautiful as well as the most expansive in the area, and despite the fresh northerly wind - to which it was uncomfortably exposed - he just loved to perch in this spot and gaze out across the sea towards the many islands and the mountains of the mainland in the distance. There always seemed to be more space here than in any other place, not to mention an abundance of fresh air, and even when the bitter wind send a chill shivering through his feathers, Algy was reluctant to tear himself away…

Algy hopes that you will all have a truly beautiful day today :)