Excuse me

I could write about the joy of seeing Simon mow pathways through the now meadow infront of Am Bothan, reminiscent of the hissing of summer lawns without the hiss or Joni. Or the hierarchy of the sparrows, dodging the peck of the bolshie governor sparrow recently usurped by a younger brave face . Or how close a radiantly yellow siskin came to me as i topped up the niger seeds.

It is the most beautiful day here in the highlands of Naast. A day that Scotland isn’t renown for but i’m thinking has been kept a closely guarded secret by the natives. Sounds of the tide from Loch Ewe, myriad chirping of the birds, a light wind keeping away the potential of midges and the lobster boat passes with its cargo of visitors who wait to see sadly empty baskets pulled for their benefit. All accompany my tea.

I am trying not to bore and wax lyrical but excuse me while I fail.