And so summer comes to an end

...although we live in hope of a few more sunny days

I left you on an absolute cliff-hanger last time - whatever could those furrows in the sand be all about? Be still your beating hearts: I am about to reveal all.

The weekend after the County Show and the Riding of the Marches (see my previous post) attention shifts to the island of South Ronaldsay, the connected isle closest to the north coast of Mainland Scotland. When I say ‘connected isle’ I mean that we are at the end of the Fourth Churchill Barrier, built during WWII to protect the shipping in Scapa Flow. The Barriers are how we get to Mainland Orkney without a boat - which is how it happened before they were built. The main road to Kirkwall goes over the Barriers.

The above is an old postcard of the Barrier connecting Burray and South Ronaldsay, taken many years ago. Only the very top of the concrete cabin on the left hand blockship, the Collingdock, is still visible today as the sand has built up enormously over the last eighty years, making this one of Orkney’s most popular beaches.

The weekend after the County Show is the Festival of the Horse and the Boys Ploughing Match. The Festival takes place in the school in St Margaret’s Hope. An extra-ordinary event which simply could not be conceived in today’s society. Young girls, and very occasionally boys, are dressed up as plough horses in wonderfully embroidered and decorated costumes which include a harness. Many of the costumes are family heirlooms, carefully stored away for the next generation to wear when their time comes. They resemble pearly kings and queens from London’s East End. This year’s winner was Rosie, wearing a costume made by a neighbour for her own daughter who did not win when wearing it! A few extra decorations must have been added. For the Parade of the Horses the girls are led out by the plough boys - that’s the bit that elicits the raised eyebrows now.

During the week before this event there were generations of families on the beach at the Sands o’Wright, the scene of the ploughing competition, each evening. All were practising hard. Like the Ba’, this is Serious Stuff. It seems to mainly involve three generations of each family. The youngster taking part, who may or may not be all that interested. Most are interested, although it must be quite overwhelming for some of the peedier ones. Then there’s Dad, who may well have been a winner in his time, and Granddad who often Knows Best. Boiler suits seem to be required gear for practice days, often matching across all the generations.

Dogs have been known to run wild across the furrows and so the area is now fenced and roped off. In truth, the dogs find the whole event much less interesting since that happened. There is much serious measuring between the tops and bottoms of the furrows which should be perfectly parallel. Advice is given - sometimes heeded, sometimes not. Rosie’s brother David was triumphant this year in his class. A good day indeed for them - but the dogs were unable to comprehend being on a beach without a ball and their body language let us know exactly how they were feeling!

Another Orcadian tradition honoured and enjoyed. And so we went home for a cuppa and/or a GravyBone or two and hoped that summer was not truly over just yet. Note the coats worn with the shorts!