Active ...

I'm looking back on my day with some wonder at how much I felt I was on the go all the time, and realise it was probably tied to this morning's existential angst before I had my cup of tea. I was thinking about how easy it is to let things slide, to let the house get untidy, then ...grubby - and not to do anything about it because it feels too much - and then I thought of how getting older would exacerbate this, and how hellish that would be ...

So. I was ready in time for my Pilates class, complete with snazzy new "active" t-shirt with silver in the weave, waiting at the end of the lane for my lift to arrive instead of rushing apologetically with my mat under my arm. I worked hard in the class, pushing my sore knee because I was sure I'd hurt it sitting badly (car? computer?) so it would benefit from stretching and firming up; so far so good with that. I didn't collapse during the planks either, but stuck it out to the end.

Home for coffee in the garden, but took myself in to cook Greek beans - giant beans baked in a tomato/onion/garlic/celery/carrot sauce - to remind myself of sitting beside the harbour in Chania and the lemon pudding and raki that followed, completely gratis, to finish off our lunch. I took ages finding the recipe I knew I preferred (note to self: it's in the paperback "Cooking the Greek Way" that I bought in Aghios Nicholaos long ago.)

We went out quite late, in the hope that most of the bank holiday visitors would be heading for home by then, and walked along the shore road on Loch Striven. We saw two families of ducklings - tiny things bobbing along with their parents, though I think one lot had some uncles as well - and heard a heron squawking among the trees. One side of the road is covered in typical native woodland - random conifers, silver birches, bracken croziers unfurling among last year's brown stalks, yellow flag irises, hawthorn - while the other side has the sparkle of the sea-loch and, as in the photo, the ubiquitous bluebells, which look amazing so close to the water. 

When we got back to the car, the thermometer read 25ºC at 6.30pm. It's at moments like these that it's borne in on me how lucky we are to live here, to have all this on our doorsteps and the time to move among so much beauty. Next time I moan about the lack of variety, feel free to give me a shake. 

Extra of Creag na Cailleach, my favourite little standing stone, with the tiny rhododendron in front of her bearing purple flowers as an offering to the young/old woman.