This wasn’t the picture I intended to share today. But gales, down pours and the general cold has postponed this years attempt at the scarecrow. I am awaiting better weather before I inflict my efforts at this on my poor unsuspecting community. It could be a long wait (if they are lucky) but it has to go up sometime this month. Blooming June they say (whoever they are) and the only thing close to this is the ‘blooming’ awful weather. Out came the thick jacket again, gloves on and hood up then I managed a walk around the loch. Looks can be deceiving though as it may appear to be hot and sunny but be thankfully you don’t get to feel the temperature in this photo. Three quarters of the way around and you can get shelter depending on which way the wind is howling. A nice little protected oasis. Branches aren’t blowing or at least not down at my level. Time to take a breath, pull the sweet smell of earth and pine needles into my lungs. Listen (now that I can hear above the wind) to bird song and the strange almost laughter like noise of the hidden ducks. No right minded duck with ducklings would attempt to cross the loch in this wind. There are all huddled into the embankments under all the branches and shrubs. I barely mentioned lochs in my first Blàs book; Blàs of the Highlands. There was a harbour, shoreline and beach nestled alongside the village. Was that enough water? I mean we are surrounded by it either by the sea, lochs or falling from the sky. Perhaps I should include a loch for Blàs of its very own in the story I am writing now. I had intended originally to have a loch featured in the makeup of the area neighbouring Blàs but as with this blog; events took a turning that led to a different path.