Some Enchanted Evening

Since my last blog we have walked and walked and walked.

The fact of the matter is that we're just not finding anything to divert us from our walking. For whatever reason, foxes seem to be really thin on the ground this year.

And as I stated in my last blog, it has been the steepest, rockiest places that have getting our attentions up until now. When we were comparing notes at the end of todays slog, it was interesting to hear that we're all suffering from 'hot' right feet. That's been our downhill foot over the last couple of days. And, strangely, that seems to slip around inside your boot slightly more.

The weather over the last fortnight has been stunning. And stunned is pretty much how we've been feeling after sprachling about these slopes for a day. Word on the street (?) is that we're doing the biggest steepest corrie on the place tomorrow. I'd better put my insoles in the fridge.

On a different note, I was up on a promontory overlooking the loch at sundown last week. It was a warm, still evening and any sound was travelling a long way.

As I sat there it occurred to me that you only ever hear people banging on about the dawn chorus. The dusk chorus I heard that evening was magical.

There were ring ouzels pipng among the rocks, grouse cackling from near and far, down on the loch Wigeon were doing their most unduck-like whistling (like the second half of a wolf-whistle), a pair of Greylag geese were honking away.

As the light faded, snipe started their 'drumming' display flights, woodcock began their croaking and whistling, cock pheasants declared their territories and a dozen other species competed to have the last word.

The icing on the cake was a loud splash alerting me to the whereabouts of an otter. I watched him for 15 minutes as he worked his way up the loch.

I ended up staying longer than I should. Then came the last bit of magic- I groped my way back down onto level ground without breaking my bleedin' leg.

Bonus!