Snow on the Hills

We woke this morning to a thin covering of snow, so we were away into the hills as soon as we'd had breakfast. After the snow fell in the early hours the temperature dropped to -1C, so the going was treacherous underfoot - something we bore in mind after our misadventure on Friday.

We saw very little living as we climbed along the flanks of Tom na Moine and Stacan Dubha. We put up two woodcock, who always seem to leave it to the last moment to fly from right beneath our feet, and we found one thicket where three wrens were having a fierce argument.

This is a hard time of year for the sheep that winter on the hills. This ewe appeared to have died very recently having fallen down a bank to come to rest against an old piece of farm machinery.

On our way home we left the common grazing through the land belonging to Grianan croft where, on a low hill, the chambered cairn called Greadal Fhinn stands. The great stone slabs of which it is formed seemed more bleak than ever as they stood stark against the snow. There's more about Greadal Fhinn here.

We arrived home after three hours walking. Going into the back garden we came across this, the first primrose of the year, looking a bit sorry for itself after such a cold night.