Black loch

Loch Eck always looks dark - at least at the Dunoon end. The hills rise steeply from its shores, so that at its narrow tip it's hard to find any reflection of the sky either from the level of this photo or from higher up. This photo shows the chalet village round its foot, at Stratheck, on a grey, misty afternoon. A fine rain is beginning to fall, and the air is still and muggy - though strangely midge-free: were they all killed off in the cold winter?

A morning spent in much socialising - first in an early visit to Morrison's, where I met several former colleagues for the first time in months, each halt necessitating a chat; then over coffee in a seafront cafe where somehow two hours passed without a silence as I caught up with another former colleague with whom I used to share a great deal. Since I retired (Thirteen years! Thirteen!) we've rarely seen each other except for brief encounters - Morrison's again - and have decided to make a monthly coffee a thing. Helped to subdue today's surge of resentment at the things the institution of the church can inflict on those who work for it ...

And an unusual shout-out for Morrison's while I'm at it: Well done them for the obvious saltire labelling on their soft fruit - whole counters of it sourced from Scotland and proudly proclaiming it.

And a completely different photo to end this incoherent post...a plant that is suddenly sprouting from a haphazardly planted avocado stone and which by so doing has identified another three such plants in abandoned flowerpots dotted about my untidy garden.