Newly washed sheets on a line, the sky at Rannoch today, all billowing, blustering, fresh. Snow stripes the top of the mountains. The nether land, both earth and water, dialogical, sucks and pulls at wellies. It takes concentration, and effort to walk here. It is simply impossible to walk in a straight line, mapping becomes an intuitive observation based on colour, height, mass and perceived dryness of mosses, sedges, heather, blaeberry. Where the peat lies exposed I push in my fingers and am surprised by the softness and buttery nature, like slightly drying oil paint. Centuries old tree stumps lie exposed to the elements and I find a contorted branch in the shape of a serpent complete with a staring eye. Grey, black and white feathers from a bird I don’t know the name of, wee granite pebbles and a piece of wood which will become a surface for a painting when it dries. A silk scarf of rain slips over the landscape. Back at the car I look at my hands. Peat underneath my fingernails, black crescent moons. I see where I need to go next.
Wishing everyone a very very happy new year !