Page 41 of A Scottish Island Summer

‘I’m taking you to see the gardens of Dunvegan Castle. You should be able to get some impressive images there.’

I glanced through the windscreen at the sky, which had morphed into the perfect, powdery blue. ‘Hang on. Didn’t you say you were taking me bird watching today?’

‘I changed my mind. I thought we’d do that another time. Let you recover from this morning.’

‘Thank you, Logan. That’s very considerate of you.’

Logan pretended to jump in shock in his seat. ‘Steady on there. For a moment, I thought you were being nice to me.’

‘Yes. Well. Don’t get used to it.’

I turned my attention to the view through the passenger side window. Crikey! The sunshine had parted the clouds and was lighting up everything in a glorious shade of gold. It was transformative; breathtaking.

I studied the way the sunlight was dancing against the hills, making them into a moving kaleidoscope of emerald, mauve and jade.

I gave him a brief side eye as he parked up in the castle car park.

He angled himself to look round at me, so I pretended to be fascinated by the lit-up horizon.

‘So, your phone and camera all charged?’ he asked. ‘Or is that a redundant question?’

Now it was my turn to raise a questioning brow. ‘What do you think?’

‘Dumb question,’ replied Logan, clambering out of the driver’s side.

I jumped out and stuffed my phone into my rucksack, pulling out my camera to capture some shots of the sky.

Logan locked the truck and led me through the gates.

Once we’d collected our tickets, we set off along a path that snaked its way up past a dizzying array of plants, shrubs and trees.

‘The castle doesn’t officially open again to tourists until April first,’ explained Logan. ‘But I got us special dispensation.’ He grinned.

I tried not to dwell on how good-looking he was. God, he’d be amazing to photograph. He’d make a great study in black and white. I always thought there was something intimate and sexy about monochrome portrait images. He’d be sitting on a wall, staring down the camera at me with those ghost-grey eyes of his, while I captured the angles of his face… I forced my head to clear. ‘How did you manage that? Getting us in here, I mean?’

‘I’ve known old Angus, one of the tour guides here, since I was a kid. He was best mates with my dad.’

‘Does everyone on Skye know everyone else?’

‘Nooo.’ Logan laughed. ‘Well, not everybody, exactly.’ He gestured to my camera. ‘I’d advise you to keep that at the ready. You won’t want to miss this.’

Through the bank of trees, the castle erupted.

Logan guided me down to a viewpoint, revealing Dunvegan Loch and the frilly turrets of the castle. There was clumps of heather and bright yellow, spikey common gorse bushes.

I stood for a moment, taking in the vista. It was gorgeous. It reminded me of a scene from a pop-up fairytale book.

I took a couple of selfies, with the castle emerging behind me, before preparing to take a photo focusing solely on the castle itself. ‘I think I’ll use the bokeh effect for this one. It’ll add depth to the picture.’

‘What’s the bokeh effect?’ asked Logan, intrigued.

‘It’s when you deliberately have an out-of-focus effect. It keeps the subject—the castle—crisp and clear, while the background is soft and blurry.’

After I took more pictures, this time capturing the early spring yellow blooms that Skye is known for – lesser celandine, cowslips and even primroses – we crossed a little lattice bridge to the Water Gardens.

‘So, what do you think?’

I breathed in the delicate scent of damp moss and trees. ‘It’s lovely.’