Back to the Bishop ...

No, I'm not referring to the fact that Bishop Mark was on the front page of today's Scotsman, though he was - I'm talking about the Bishop's Glen, the former reservoir for Dunoon and now just about the most doggy place in the area. For that reason an area that I used to walk in several times a week has felt out of bounds as far as I'm concerned, especially if I'm alone. This is annoying, as it's within walking distance of home, with several paths round the glen at different levels and a satisfying burn with dramatic little waterfalls and hills all around ...

But I'll return to that. The day began latish for me because I was so late last night, but once I was up I was speedy. I stewed prunes in the last of my breakfast tea, made sourdough bread (which I'm now going to have to bake, now, at 11.30pm, because I forgot all about it - damn!), talked to the builder about work we want done in the Spring. I fried some sourdough starter to eat with lentil soup for lunch, speedily, before my pal came round to help me carry a new bird table up the road from the hardware shop. We parked it in the garden and headed off up the road ...

And that's where I came in. It's like these cinema visits when I was a child - you came in in the middle of the big film, watched it to the end, watched the B movie and the news and the adverts and then the big film started again and you sat in dread of hearing the words "This is where we came in. Come on ..." I had the longest walk I've had in weeks, and felt my lack of fitness painfully. I couldn't believe such a familiar place felt so tiring. Mustn't get like this again...

My blip shows the former reservoir through the trees at the point where the burn flows into it. There used to be another reservoir above this one, off to the left of the photo, but that's been returned to woodland and there's no longer any sign of it. Extra is an arty photo of our church with some gorse - our way back was through the graveyard. Suitable, don't you think, to have Holy Trinity Church at the foot of the Bishop's Glen?

Political footnote: Cheers for Iain Blackford and Keir Starmer, and boo to a Tory called Chope. Why do people elect such awful representatives?