Another blip from the south of the Cowal peninsula, this time on Loch Striven-side, approaching the fuel pier at the depot. Today there were no ships alongside; no tugs; no crew coming and going; no coaches and taxis waiting to take them into Dunoon of an evening. The lights shine on the quiet water, bright orange and tiny green ones, points of light in the gloaming. The slight wind that had been at our backs on the outward walk has died, and there is no sound from water or wildlife.
That's not to say there was none in the area: I've never seen quite so many herons in one afternoon. Even allowing for the fact that we felt that at least on large, dark-feathered heron kept taking off just as we came alongside, flying down the shore to perch further along to fool us into thinking we'd seen another one, there were so many of them, sitting hunched like schoolmasters on the shore or flapping just above the water, sometimes with a squawking bunch of seagulls just in front of them.
So quiet and unremarkable. It seems so unlikely that come the weekend this sea-loch will be battered by gales and the hills probably white with snow - and so unlikely that we will have to be crossing the water at some point on Saturday. Watch this space ...
Extra photo is of a Church of Scotland in the centre of Dunoon. It looks from the outside as if it should be altogether splendid, but alas it is not. A balcony on three sides, a massive pulpit and excessive carpeting have rendered the acoustic absolutely dead and the atmosphere much the same. Impressive on the outside, however!