Random excursions

I noticed when I woke this morning that it was already pretty sunny, though Dunoon had more cloud in the morning than round about. However I was more preoccupied by the sense that I was tired to the point of aching when I'd only just got out of bed, and my porridge didn't seem to help. I pushed grimly on with getting a thick woolly washed and out in the sunshine, laid slightly precariously across the arms of the whirligig and then pegged on ... and made the coffee. Surely that would help?

I didn't really have time to test this theory, however, as Di texted: did I fancy a morning walk with the dogs? I prevaricated: I had a Zoom meeting at 2pm (this was true), I'd not be at the proposed meeting place till noon, I needed to have time for a bite of lunch ... but then I thought, with shades of New Labour, that Things Can Only Get Better and went. We walked, in brilliant sunshine, in a funny wee corner of land off to the side of the head of the Holy Loch, where bright green fields are full of sheep and there is a view of the surrounding forest, currently being cleared/felled/harvested - a place I rarely go, but familiar to Di because her dogs don't do well meeting other dogs. It was perfectly lovely - the grass is so lush and green just now, and the  trees are full and bright, and there are yellow irises and wild mustard and purple clover and ... and ... and a wonderful lone red squirrel, who was coming down the road to meet us before it veered left into the long grass and vanished. We were sure it had climbed a tree, but having passed it I looked back in time to see the squirrel emerge once more onto the road and go barrelling down it at a rate of knots before disappearing into a field. Made my day!

We had a hot lunch (if  you can call toast and a banana lunch) in the garden before I went upstairs for my Zoom, which lasted over an hour (with a friend I've known since school and who is as involved in our combined churches as I am). Then I went down to Toward with Himself and we walked gently along the Ardyne and sat on suitable rocks on the beach looking at fat geese among the seagulls on the sandbank as the tide receded. Instead of the lush greens we had brilliant blues and dull gold beach and the cry of seabirds and it was all rather glorious. And I realised I'd felt fine since I left for that first walk ... 

Today was one of these days when I realise I couldn't bear to live in the city after knowing such freedom. It reminded me of how I couldn't bear it when as a child I was lamenting leaving Arran after 8 weeks' summer holiday and knowing it would be ten months before I was there again - and now I don't need to leave any of it. 

Photo of Di wrestling slightly with her two spaniels on the upper path this morning, with the Cowal hills beyond.