‘I’ve lived here fifteen years and never saw this trail before.’ We smile. It’s easy to miss when you’re not looking. We’re grateful we discovered it. Guided by a magician’s flute, a song of butterflies.
tranquility inside a bell chimes in praise of trees
A passing shower brings welcome freshness, more greenness to the grass. Water cascades from the top into a thousand tiny pools. We hear the ‘plop’ of frogs leaping. Careful where we place our feet, we continue the climb. Eivor and Pearl grind to a halt, star-struck. We know what they’ve seen. They ask whether we can see it too. We blink and tell them we believe them.
stag on the hill greeting us in peace a kindred spirit
The grass-covered roof of the Rock Room blends in with the ferns and heather of the hillside. Inside are display boards in English and Gaelic, explaining how parts of the earth’s crust have travelled long distances. The older mylonites on display at Knockan Crag had been forced up against and over the later Cambrian layer.
There’s a sculpture of two geologists, Ben Peach and John Horne, to celebrate these findings. Today the grass is growing around Horne’s feet, some of the seeds tickle his knees. The sun feels extra warm after the morning’s showers.
deep time so many treasures breathing the same air
this summer blessed with sun we walked ten miles and talked of shorelines and geology beyond amazed what has become our tidal land, plucked from desert, sea and glacier we’re grateful time has brought us near our gentle surf and all that glitters here
The clear waters of Alt Mor tumble over the stones. The rains have been welcome after wildfires swept across our moors. I love the smells of earth and water, the young green leaves. It feels as if the forest can breathe again.
in the air the soft whistle of sika deer calling their young