A Walk in Wet Weather

After more rain yesterday morning, making a total over the previous 12 hours of another 12mm to add to what we'd had since Friday, and continuing grey skies and drizzle, we hadn't intended to walk into the hills in the afternoon because the ground was so saturated. But, while taking a different route to the shop by following the common grazings boundary fence along the back of Ormsaigbeg, we found ourselves straying further and further up the hill, ending up on the summit of Stacan Dubha. And it was well worth the climb because, as the picture shows, Ardnamurchan and Eigg might be grey with cloud, but the Cuillins of Skye lay in bright sunshine.

The air was wonderfully clear - presumably scrubbed clean by such copious amounts of rain - that we had some of the finest views to the north we have ever enjoyed. This picture looks across Lochan an Aodainn on Sonachan land to Muck, Rhum and, in the left distance, the flat outline of Canna. Even the islands of the Outer Hebrides seemed close enough to pick out their detail.

We are so used to some things in the empty landscapes we cross that we hardly notice them, let alone stop and think about them. This metal fence post stands in the saddle just to the west of the twin lochans. It stands all alone. It was sunk into solid rock, a time-consuming task, so it was intended to last. The next nearest post is half a kilometre away over the ridge, on the shores of one of the lochans. Was there once a fence between them, held up by wooden posts that have rotted away? Was it a project started but abandoned - and, if so, what and whose was the intention and why did it die?

The last of the summer wildflowers hang on despite the deteriorating weather, such as a few scattered heads of cross-leaved heather, Erica tetralix, along with the other heathers, bell and ling. And, now that we know what it is, it's surprising how much red grouse droppings we're seeing.

Coming down off the hill and walking through the fields above the road, we noticed again how little there is in the way of berries on the trees. The usual rowan crop is almost absent, so this lonely old hawthorn tree seemed to offer one of the few chances for the birds to have a meal. It's pretty thin pickings for the long winter ahead.