Pentland hills.

Watercolour crayon and coffee.

A walk today, away from the studio into some air and light and smirry rain as it turns out. A softness of grey cloud hangs low, brings a flatness to the hills, makes them feel closer, intimate. High up, a small reservoir that was built solely for the use of the mills downstream shivers in the prickly wind. Lapwings dance with wigeon, geese and a cormorant, all observed from the comfort of a bird hide made it would seem as a place to eat sandwiches and draw and drink coffee whilst looking at the drifting rain. For being so close to Edinburgh it is surprising how isolated it feels. I imagine winters long gone where snow would lie for weeks, cut off. A map shows the paths up and over and round these hills – drovers highways, covenanters caves, roads of thieves. A bridge over a small burn carves its serpentine route and this whole landscape seems based on curves – this way and that- the hills and burns and the lapwings cartwheeling across the sky. Face smarting from exposure to the fresh air, tired legs follow the track back to the car. The sun comes out and I carry the smell of the hills back home.