Moonrise

Here, by way of a change, is this morning's moonrise, an old crescent moon heaving himself out of the early morning haar which was drifting just above the surface of the Sound of Mull.  At bottom right can be seen the Ardmore Point light shining from beneath the mist.

My very superstitious Scots mother used to insist that we bowed seven times to a new crescent moon in order to enjoy a lucky month, and that if we saw it through glass it ruined the month.  She never said what we had to do with an old crescent moon like this one, perhaps because they're much less often noticed.

Just after nine a skein of geese flew across the Sound.  Below them are some of the skerries called the New Rocks on the OS map, though they must have a better, local name.

The haar drifted inland as the morning went on, collecting as patches of mist in some of the valleys.  This view looks from the B8007 westwards across Ardnamurchan Estate land to Meall an Tarmachain.

In such lovely weather it was easy to spend another morning exploring the abandoned village of Glendrian.  The stone walls of the broken houses are camouflaged against the hillside beyond the green, sheep-cropped grass, and the hill behind them is Meall an Fhir-eoin, eagle hill, appropriately named since there was, for many years, an eagle's nest somewhere in the ring of hills to the east of Glendrian.

The silence that surrounds one in a place like Glendrian, where there is not another soul for miles, is indescribable; yet, every now and then, I found myself looking around, as if aware that someone was approaching.

Someone did... in the shape of the pilot of a Typhoon Eurofighter, who, for a moment, looked as if he was going to land his aluminium tube of technical wizardry on the flat sward of the old village - then changed his mind, opened his throttle and roared up and over the hills in the direction of Kilchoan.