Glen More

We had hoped to get out on a boat trip to Staffa, home of Fingal's Cave, today but the weather forecast was not great what with the threat of rain and high wind, and the captain of the boat had to call it off.
So we headed off for a good stroll along the northern shore of Loch Scridain, all wrapped up in our foulest weather gear; only to find we were uncomfortably hot and the forecast rain was only a figment of the forecasters' imagination, at least for the time being.  One of the joys of the day was encountering a number of small and newborn lambs which we spent a while watching...how for a while they shadow their mothers, keeping almost side to side and only wandering off as they grow a little older and more confident - but then, at the slightest sign of apparent threat, bounding on their springy legs in search of Mum and safety. When they feed, their little straggly tails begin to wag with sheer pleasure, finally rotating wildly like mad propellers!
Later we found a sheltered spot for lunch, in sight of a number of ruined and abandoned dwellings which led us to reflect on the awful fact of the highland clearances...
As we headed back, we were stopped by a young tractor driver who observed that our front number plate has fallen off (which we already knew, but had been unable to replace). He went on to warn us that there is an unmarked police car on the island and said that if we were to spot a white Fiat, we were to turn around and head in the opposite direction. If you are in the vicinity, you have been warned!
Soon after this, we drove north in the shadow of Ben More, the only Munro peak on Mull. By now the clouds were gathering throwing shadows on the hills, the mountain grasses catching the light and changing colour as the sun came and went. To our right lay the tarns and lakes of Glen More which look like this.