After feeling pretty awful yesterday and missing a great party in Inverness I am off to hopefully get another Corbett done. It was very heavy rain for part of the day today and my battered body was needing a break. The plan is to head for Fort Augustus and see how it goes. A worrying quote from Hamish Brown in his book climbing the Corbetts “this is high quality wilderness, this is not easy walking” I will have to see? These hills just now are covered with sweet smelling Heather and last night I read this wonderful poem with its so descriptive words.
Scotland small? Our multiform, our infinite Scotland small? Only as a patch of hillside may be a cliché corner. To a fool who cries ‘Nothing but heather!’ where in September another Sitting there and resting and gazing around Sees not only the heather but blaeberries With bright green leaves and leaves already turned scarlet, Hiding ripe blue berries; and amongst the sage-green leaves Of the bog-myrtle the golden flowers of the tormentil shining; And on the small bare places, where the little Blackface sheep Found grazing, milkworts blue as summer skies; And down in neglected peat-hags, not worked Within living memory, sphagnum moss in pastel shades Of yellow, green, and pink; sundew and butterwort. Waiting with wide-open sticky leaves for their tiny winged prey; And nodding harebells vying in their colour With the blue butterflies that poise themselves delicately upon them; And stunted rowans with harsh dry leaves of glorious colour. ‘Nothing but heather!’ ̶ How marvellously descriptive! And incomplete!