Path of light

It didn't look as if today was going to amount to much, not when I peeped out this morning on my way down to breakfast: grey, chilly, hint of a nasty wee wind ... certainly not a day to tempt me to linger out of doors. Perhaps I'd get some work done ...

In the event, I did a little work. I took down a big white box from a shelf in the study to see if it contained what the label promised ... Yes: it still contained the files from my last few years in teaching, when I had all the preparation I needed for teaching Higher English classes and was able to enjoy just being with them as they learned. It was my intention always to teach how rather than what, and I felt lucky to be teaching a subject that so rewarded such an approach. It's suddenly dawned on me that there might now be further use for these exemplars and lesson plans, as my grandchildren turn into the people I used to teach ...

Apart from that, however, along with a couple of phone calls, all I managed to do before lunch was to compile my click and collect order. It'll be interesting to see what gets left off this week. By this time the sun was returning as the clouds broke and melted away, and a couple of hours later we were back out in a favourite afternoon sun walk in this east-facing place. We walked 9.5 kilometres along the road beside Loch Striven, marvelling at the fact that Arran had totally vanished in the haze. We saw a heron and several couples of oyster-catchers, as well as the RFA Wave Knight,  a  fast fleet tanker of the Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) of the United Kingdom tasked with providing fuel, food, fresh water, ammunition and other supplies to Royal Navy vessels around the world. The ship was tied up at the POL depot pier looking big and incongruous in this peaceful loch - we could hear her engines all the way along the shore. Anyone following this blip must think I spend far too much time walking in the same places; I realise I'm influenced by the presence of the afternoon sun and the quiet road that lets us walk without concentrating on where we're going. At this time of year, the main attractions are the pairs of birds and the proliferation of catkins - thousands of them - on the gnarled trees beside the road.

I'm still struggling to comprehend quite how the Salmond case is looming so large in current political life in Scotland. This evening I worked hard at staying with the report on the news, but I'm still appalled at the playground pile-on the opposition are indulging in with everything else that's going on. 

Rather than dwell on it, however, I leave you with this sunset image of two oyster-catchers surveying the quiet loch from a rock just offshore, silhouetted against the path of light on the water.