To Iona

An early start with ridiculous sunshine. On the the long drive down bendy, bumpy beautiful roads we saw the two late-in-the-season red deer fawns. They were stuck in a rich field of grass, their mum high on the hill above them. I leapt out of the car and snapped away.

We pushed on towards Iona, helped by a really pushy driver who led the charge down the long road over the Ross of Mull. We got to the ferry just as it was unloading and rushed down to go across the staggeringly clear water.

We walked out to the north (ish) end of the island past the Abbey and a corncrake craking in an unmown field of hay. At the point the machair was beautiful, full of brighteye and birds foot trefoil. We saw a pair of mink slinking around on the rocks and gannets diving into the bright blue waters. It was absolutely fabulous.

Later we did the walk back to the ferry as the crowds thickened promising that one day we would spend a night at the dinky Argyle Hotel with its breathtaking views of the crossing.

The drive home was staggeringly beautiful. Ben Mohr out in all his splendour, the Gribben cliff road dark and threatening beneath all that perched rock and the sun keeping the might sky to the west red until well after 11.30.

I've gone big on the extras for today. It was just one of those days. And always hard to choose what to favour, what to discard. They run in order from the end of Iona, two views from Iona, Ben Mohr and boat, Gribben road and final last everlasting light. But I had to give the red deer fawns pride of place. They were so beautiful, defiant even, even in their anxiety.