There is a crack in everything ...

Can't resist the quotation from one of my favourite Leonard Cohen songs to describe the moment when a shaft of sunlight cut through the clouds just before it set behind the hills and lit up a bank of cloud and the summit of the hill on the far side of the Loch Eck rift. 

Walking down this last bit of the Glen Massan road, approaching the hamlet of forestry houses on the bend, I always feel almost a physical reminder of childhood, when on holiday on Arran we would return at the end of an afternoon's walk and smell the smoke of fires new-lit and look forward to a tea of boiled eggs, floury muffins with strawberry jam and, if we were lucky, a chocolate biscuit. Then we'd be allowed out to run wild till the light began to go and it would be bedtime. Somehow this corner of Argyll brings it rushing back, even on a barely-spring afternoon over 60 years later ... 

My extra photo was taken half an hour earlier, looking back at the farm in the upper glen as the clouds began to break up.