ipod, camera, muffin in bag, in a confused tangle around my shoulder, the intrepid threesome step confidently out on to the drive and make off in the direction of pigeon falls. the weather can't make up its mind; there seems to be a front making its way in our general direction with natural catastrophe written all over it. today, however, is the day of reckoning and the sweedens shall win the day. today, we are invincible!
joy is in my heart as bettye lavette growls melodically into the headphones. all is one and one is all, I holistically conclude, as the magnificent highland vista, bogey's enthusiastic bounding and that sweet blues, blend into some kind of heavenly casserole, prepared beautifully for my delectation and delight. it is indeed a moving experience, so much so, that I start to cry from deep within. that damned inner me is getting knocking on the gate and I can't help but let him in, not that I make a lot of effort to prevent him. the music changes and more inner me spews out through my eyes and out my nose. is it joy or is it sadness; it is neither and it is both but there is no single train of thought that presents some sort of clue as to the origin of this unacceptable outburst. I'm a man and men aren't supposed to cry (but these tears I can't hold inside).
half a mile further on, the storm of emotion fizzles out and normal service is resumed though I do feel more in touch with my surroundings, the dogs and friends who have played such a huge role in recent times. we walk steadily on, my movements not dissimilar to those of an aged penguin or perhaps someone who had recently been kicked in the nuts, to accommodate muffin in her carry-bag which swings rhythmically below my waist.
after a short while we reach the falls. despite a brief splatter the rain has held off and promises of sunshine turn into reality as we approach the splashing foaming partnership of fresh mountain water as it powers its way into the immovable array of rock and stone pouring through and over it as it makes it's way down the hill towards the dochart glen.
bogey and muffin go on exploration and I make ready the new camera for its first employment. I had no up-to-date pictures of myself except one that would be more appropriate in the wax museum so I prepared to pose for some natural-looking shots and set the shutter in timer mode. the idea was to depress the shutter and run to the focus point in time to relax, thus giving the impression that I had been there all along. it's actually not that simple when you have an overlong headphone cord and a variety of convenient branches, not to mention my own knee, which do their best to make sure that when you eventually reach the said posing position you are either not in the picture or the expression on your face is anything but attractive. bogey finds this all very amusing and, unfortunately but very generously, also does his best to help. eventually, the shoot is complete. I finish my fag and gather the troupe and we make are way, happy in the knowledge that our task is complete, back home.
and here are some pics from the expedition + the kitchen
why the kitchen, you might ask;
. . . why indeed
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