Remembering in the rain

Today it rained, on and off, until evening. It was mild and still - the kind of weather that makes me think "midges", only there were none. We had a more strenuous walk than I'd anticipated (my self-spraining ankle just made it home and no more: don't ask) and I was wet right through with a combination of rain and sweat. I shouldn't have bothered with the waterproof top ...

The whole thing stirred up childhood memories, as powerful as ever after over 60 years. We used to have holidays in Arran, staying in the same cottage for the whole 8 weeks of the school holidays, and I was rarely indoors. Walking through the forest to the viewpoint from which I took this photo reminded me of how we used to play in the woods when it was wet; even at the age of 8 I knew where to find places where the trees were thick enough to keep us more or less dry. We roamed for miles and frequently lost our way, but somehow were always home in time to avoid the raising of alarms and subsequent restrictions.

This hillside made me feel it was autumn already. Some of the heather - the stuff growing on thin soil on the top of a rock - is completely dead and russet-coloured, the heather is purple, and some of the bracken is gold, like the frond in the foreground. I wonder what it'll be like by September...