A First Walk

The Diary has been suffering from 'flu, and this morning ventured out along the Ormsaigbeg road for the first time in ten days. One of the few advantages of being ill and bedridden and miserable is that there was a heightened joy in being out again, particularly on such a lovely, sunny morning, and being able to notice some of the changes that have taken place - like the catkins are in full flower on the hazel, and seemed to positively glow in the early morning sunlight.

The grass and bracken were frozen in a hard frost, the air temperature last night having dropped below zero for the first time in some weeks, and the sky had more jet con-trails than cloud.

With only a short walk possible, we turned westward to the end of the road at Coilum, where Angus-John Cameron keeps four cows, three of which have given birth. Without the yellow plastic ear tags, it might have been difficult to spot the calves.

From the end of the road we looked down to a shingle beach in a bay where we have picnics in summer. As well as being protected from the wind, this bay seems to have little weed, so it's still pleasant to swim in at low tide. The bays along this coast also vary hugely in how much flotsam they collects: this one also has the advantage that it collects relatively little.

By the time we returned home we were able to sit out on the terrace and bask in the sun's warmth, disturbed only when the cat brought a fat field mouse and, having played with it until the wretched beast finally died of terror, proceeded to spent five minutes crunching bones as she ate it under our chair.