A Wet Sunday in Orkney

Woke up to find a drone in the bedroom; CMC must have been entertaining Hairy Hamish.  All I could recall was a fevered night and the distant, indistinct sound of piping. 

Incessant post-breakfast precipitation which lightened.  Walked round to deliver a tech drawing to Ziberoonie for our project.  We walked 6 miles and only saw three cars and two bipeds.  On a normal May Sunday we would have seen at least five cars, some even driving past, slowly, without anyone in them.  At Ziberoonie’s gaff we observed anti-social distancing.  Worryingly he was reading up on the Manhattan Project explaining ‘…well it is a wet Sunday’.  Meantime the world rolls on; but where to?  It certainly won’t turn right down to the Earl’s Bu.  We saw a pair of twite, Gt Northern Divers, stonechat but no etceteras.

Back at HQ CMC made a batch of wholemeal scones.  It was so cold I arranged a meeting with Mr Dronach, Glen is only 18 but very welcome. 

As they say in NASA ‘Watch this Space’.

Una Stubbs is 83.