I was on the laptop at half seven this morning. I didn’t look up until ten to eleven when the phone went at which point I realised I hadn’t had breakfast yet.
It was a productive time and after a couple of rolls on beef and cheese (both of whose use by dates hurried them out of the fridge and onto my rolls) and a fresh cuppa I was back on. Then the phone went again and it was two hours later. It’s like a black hole or a time vortex or some bloody thing been in front of that screen.
Fancy a wee walk to catch the last of the light said Linda. I put the kettle on to fill a flask. Enough, I’d done my bit and was pleased with myself. Not the frequent event you might imagine. I like earning my time out, I always have. Every time I dived away midweek for a summit camp because the weather was good is because I’d worked for those free hours or knew I’d sweat them out as soon as I got back.
I like having a purpose, I like having goals. Having the focus to do them, that’s the hard bit at times.
It was bright enough but the light was soft and warm, even if the air drifting off Loch Lomond was chill. Through the trees, through the mud, under that branch, over that log and finally a crunch of pebbles on the beach.
Conic Hill looks so small from here, bet it was lovely there today, especially for anyone who saw the sun go down just a wee bit later on.
A bimble and a blether took us through the trees and over swollen burns to the gravelly point that was still hidden by the high waters of the loch.
It was still a fine spot anyway, we sat and poured a cup each and watched the sun sink as the water rippled in suspicious but hypnotic ways just a few feet away.
As it got even colder we took to our feet and into the trees to find more mud and the lovely twisting trail back the the gates. It’s lovely in here, in a 1971 British horror film way.
The car park was close when the sky lit up properly, all the colours all at once we got. And for our cameras we had a potholed car park. We made the best of it.
Local adventures. Yes please.