spontaneous dog walk up hill to clearance village, dragging sore feet & bunged sinuses up & away from the lure/guilt/pull of the proverbial drawing board/ easel/ PC/ workstation. heavy Blossom smell everywhere, hawthorn, bluebells, gorse. bracken now tall, nearly hiding the rocks and ruins of homes from hundreds of years ago. Saw some couple of skylarks chase off a two cuckoos, twisting & turning through the sky. run rigs, crop rotation sheilings, drying kiln, bridge, up here where fishing boats & long ships would have been seen heading up the loch, now fish farm cages, the timelessness is intruded by the whine of motorbikes across the loch, boat engine by the narrows, train heading to plockton, plane heading to the states. Impossible to get head around that people lived here before, lived of this sparse and boggy land, sat & watched from those same rocks.
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