| Popis: |
sublimity of most northern landscapes can overpower a lover of wildflowers like myself, but not Iona. It is the most colorful island I have ever laid my eyes on, even rivaling the tropics. The sky is usually several shades of dark blue mixed with gray swirling clouds. The sea varies from sapphire to green, and often can show several bands of it at the same time. The sand skirting most of the perimeter of the island, except for the southern side facing Ireland, is a bright white. It is impossible to walk anywhere without encountering the many verdancies of heather. The blossom of this ubiquitous flower is too small to be noticed from a distance, though close up it tinges the path in delicate pinks and purples. Strewn everywhere on the beaches are thousands of stones of various sizes cast in reds and creams and deeper reds. In the sound between Iona and the Isle of Mull, only a fifteen-minute ride by ferry, there is an ancient geological fault line, which is why the rocks are so distinct. It makes sense to me. The difference is |
