Moon with constellation and clouds on shoulder

The moon came up over Eilean Dubh last night looking like a coin someone had rubbed with a thumb, dark at the bottom where the cloud had settled on it like wool in a basin. Mrs Gunn says the clouds only sit that low before a blow, so I have had the shutters bolted and the hens brought in. You will laugh, but I kept watching the stars instead of the sky over the harbour. The seven you drew on the back of the chart for me are still there, joined up with your ruler lines, though I think you had the middle one wrong. It is shaped more like a kite than a plough.

Father's boat came in at dusk with only two men aboard. Ruari would not say much, only that the net had come up light and that they had lost the Morag somewhere past the skerries. Mother put the kettle on and did not lift it off the hob until it boiled dry, and I did not tell her the sea had been flat all week. I sat at the table with your chart and a pencil and drew the moon round as a plate, then filled the bottom of it with clouds, the way you used to draw waves so they looked like they were breaking.

Mrs Gunn came by this morning and saw the drawing on the table. She said it was the nearest thing to the island she had ever seen, which I took as a kindness. I have pinned it above the stove. When the cloud lifts in the night, the top half of the moon shows through clear, and the stars sit exactly where your ruler put them.

Come home when the weather turns. Bring the ruler.

Ishbel