I had to go to a meeting the other side of the ridge this evening, and
instead of taking the road bike and going the longer (but quicker)
route round the end of the hills, took the Cannondale and went over the
top. Going out (early evening) was very pleasant, warm sun, cuckoo
calling on the hillside, amazing colour in the wild flowers this year.
But coming back was exceptional. In the last of the gloaming, with a
whole different set of birds calling - the whaup and the peewees and
all the birds you expect of a moorland night. And then, quite
unexpectedly, in a little haugh of rough rushy grass and heath and
stunted willows with taller woods behind, a nightjar. I didn't actually
see it, although it was very close, but the sound is utterly
distinctive and I would call it a positive identification - although
it's the first time I've ever heard one in Scotland.
And then up and over the pass and the long winding track down in near
darkness in my highest gear with the lumis carving a swathe of light,
showing up the potholes and the boulders and the gravel washouts - a
total blast.
--
[email hidden] (Simon Brooke) http://www.jasmine.org.uk/~simon/
;; killing [afghan|iraqi] civilians is not 'justice'