Dazzled

I have this thing about going to sleep with the curtains open. It's a habit that's grown through the 44 years I've lived in this house, where not a soul overlooks our front windows and the only reason to draw the curtains is to keep the heat in. The drawback is that from now until September if there's any sun visible it will shine straight on my face, and for the next couple of months it's going to do this thing earlier and earlier till I'm cursing my way out of bed at four in the morning to shut one or more curtains to allow some more sleep. Daft, huh?

This morning's sun was hazy, so it didn't really enter my slumbers. But when I got up I was struck by the dramatic gleam of it on the water, and the sight of the (small, pretty useless, about-to-go-off-in-the-easterly-wind) ferry ploughing through the choppy waves towards Gourock. It stayed sunny till early afternoon - we were able to eat our lunch out of doors - but vanished in hazy cloud for the rest of the day.

Later I went an exploratious and quite strenuous walk with my pal. We talked about Thomas and doubt (she's preaching on Sunday), scrambled over a burn like a pair of kids, and covered 10 kilometres by the time we were done. All this in an area very close to places I know well, but on forest tracks and minor roads that I never knew existed. 

And we heard our first cuckoo ...