Stout Cortez moment

Several factors make this the photo du jour - the jour in question being, incidentally, our 47th wedding anniversary!  Firstly, you have to imagine the scent of all those fairly recently-felled pine trees. The erstwhile forest floor is covered in fragrant splinters of wood, and the sun is shining on them. Then you have to see the view - a newly-opened-up view, denied us all the years we've been coming up here in Glen Finart along this forest track. That line of blue is the Firth of Clyde, and there's this big open green space below, home to a few sheep, which we've never even dreamed of: I always thought it was all forest. The track through the dense fir trees - shadowy, chilly - has turned into a sunlit balcony path; horribly rocky underfoot, to be sure, with the recent reinforcement to allow the timber machinery in, but still a valuable way into the hillside.

And just in case you're wondering about the title, here's some Keats before you go:

On First Looking into Chapman's Homer
BY JOHN KEATS
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, 
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; 
Round many western islands have I been 
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. 
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told 
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne; 
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene 
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: 
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies 
When a new planet swims into his ken; 
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes 
He star'd at the Pacific—and all his men 
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise— 
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.