158

Feed-time

No, I haven't been down t'Croft today. The sun was shining brightly this morning, the snow lie round about and I took off over the peats where none had trod in the pristine landscape. I have never had such a wonderful walk near the village. I sang - albeit tunelessly - In the bleak mid-winter and the dog -Ghriet - who was accompanying me on this trek looked at me with pity. I didn't care. Winter solstice had passed, the days are getting shorter, the low sun was on my back and there was no wind.

The ground glistened in the soft sunlight and we strode along the old peat track past the water-tower, alongside the loch through the gate and down towards our peat bank. Over the top we went sometimes breaking through the crisp crust of frozen snow and came back along the other loch towards the village fank and hence back home. What a wonderful stroll and we never saw a soul.

The Crofter didn't come for a walk. No doubt he was wrestling with frozen water troughs and truculent piggies. As he was the other day. Again.