A week in the west

Came home early from a week on the Isle of Skye. Caved in the relentless rain and 40-50 mph winds that moaned and howled around the house. We did have snatches of time when it was not raining and hurried out to enjoy our surroundings and take a few pics. Tim had to be walked, of course, regardless of the weather and our day began with me walking him the  400 yards down the curving track to the rubbish bins situated at the junction with the single track road.

The track was unfenced with woods on one side and a hillside on the other, so he galloped around
freely until we neared the road. Once I'd deposited our rubbish we headed back, and then if it wasn't pouring down, we ventured off-piste as it were and scrambled around the open land around the house. Little tracks led every which way through the knee high tussocks and bracken, possibly rabbit or deer tracks - we surprised two deer sheltering in the wood one morning and they scampered away, leapt the fence and set off across the hillside with the lovely level stride the red deer have.
 Then the mist would sweep across from the far headland, thicken and the rain would start again. We learned to anticipate how fast the clouds were coming and usually made it back home before we got drenched.  A great way to start the day. Then a quiet hour or two with the laptop and the wip until the rain disappeared and the sun came out again. Then all three of us would venture out and clamber up the hillside.