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Lying on a sofa in a holiday let perched on a cliff on the edge of nowhere. Looking at a tiny gleam of sun. The first in days. Until now the light has been flat, the cloud continuous, the wind fierce and the rain horizontal. I am coughing, sneezing,

Sitting on the machair at the top of Bernera watching rabbits. There is a beach of white sand. A turquoise and indigo sea. Small hilly islands off shore and, among the rocks in the bay, an urn like object rising from the waves. It looks tropical. Exotic.

Sitting at the back of the house in my new all weather bistro set making a list of things to do in the garden. I am rather close to the feeder and the birds are not pleased. But my heart has hardened. Who pays for the bird food ? The few brave ones are