U R MAD HE IS

October - a time of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Actually, a time of a bit of mud at the back of Dores.

Our instructions to find the starting point of the walk were vague to the point of non-existent, but luckily it all pointed to a layby to the south of Dores, just beyond the McBain Monument.

A big turnout today and it was swollen by Sandra, the occasional interloper who was up staying with us for the weekend.

I like to think that the turnout was boosted by the fact that I had promised a variety of cakes for after the walk.

Soon we were heading off to the horizon.

Well, except for Jimmy who had a bit of a sticky time in the mud.

It wasn't long before we met our first immoooovable objects.

Pam has a bit of a phobia about cows, unless they are on a plate with a nice peppercorn sauce.

After a bit of toing and froing - well actually standing still....

....the cows decided to take the moral high ground and to stay there. That allowed us to progress with honour intact.

Meanwhile, the sheep caught up on their line dancing practice.

There was lots of Autumn colour about. Don't you think that the intrusion of the pastoral peacefulness between the moor and the mountain is a summation of Scotland today?

Rowan berries. Those of you who were paying attention and read the previous blog will remember me telling you in great detail why this was not necessarily a sign of a bad winter to come. For those of you who didn't, you'll be glad to hear that I am not going to explain it again.

They say that there is a huge threat to society from robots replacing thousands of jobs and rendering many of us redundant. That doesn't affect those of us who have retired, of course.

You would think that some outdoor jobs would be safe from this kind of threat, but now - Little Bo Peep has been reduced to this.

Pam's second worst nightmare. Luckily he was behind a fence - although he looks like it would take more than a bit of wire to stop him.

Oh! I couldn't possibly tell you what her worst nightmare was - especially as Hugh was not on the walk. Any likeness between Hugh and the bull is purely in his imagination.

No real bridges on this walk, so here is a gate photo instead.

Well, actually two gate photos. Janet wasn't looking at the camera in the first attempt, nor, indeed, in the second. Maureen isn't looking in the second either.

Our grandchildren are better at watching the birdie than this lot.

Some mellow fruitfulness.

A less mellow but more hirsute Jimmy just can't resist a free lunch.

Hirsute derives from the Latin for rough, shaggy or bristly. It also has the same Latin root as Horrid. I am saying no more.

We begin a bit of a descent into ,madness

Ooops, sorry we begin a bit of a descent into more open country and get some nice views towards a hazy Inverness.

This was what it looked like when we checked out the walk on a nice sunny day.

The harvest is home.

Time for lunch, which was taken in the manner of a cocktail party. You know, standing about a lot, with people with unusual anecdotes. Robin and Sandra had heard them all before and decide to sit down.

4 swans in the fields below us. They were having lunch too.

Somehow we acquired a couple of dogs after lunch.

They weren't hot dogs either.

A little green hut just off the track. There is nothing marked on the Ordnance Survey map, 

but I think it must be a cover for a private water supply.

I was a bit too far away to be sure whether these were crows or rooks. Usually if there are more than two big black birds they are rooks and two or less is usually a crow and his or her mate. Of course, this is not always true and then again black birds could be jackdaws or ravens. Indeed, they could be blackbirds. In this case, however, I think they will be rooks. Too big for jackdaws and too small for ravens. Blackbird is just silly and crows would be less likely to be in a group like this.

I could be wrong, though.

In fact, that possibility so upset me that I blew up the original photo and it turns out they do look more like rooks than crows to me. That is based on their silhouettes, which are....yes...black. 

Of course, they could also have been choughs. They are big and black, but they have orange beaks and tend to inhabit high ground and precipitous cliffs.

Is anybody still reading this?

And Mac said this would make a dull photograph at the time.

How wrong was he?

Well I was fascinated for a time.

Looking back towards Inverness, which was there through the haze.

Gorse is always in flower no matter the time of year or the weather.

You can see the little explosion of yellow in the midst of a forest of green.

Time for a little chat.

Then off we go again, getting closer to the cars and some excitement.

Mealfuarvonie, with some autumn colour in the foreground.

Then we were back at the cars. Just as we exited the path onto the public road a cyclist stopped and asked if any of us had medical training. He and his fellow cyclists had come across a poor guy lying by the side of the road with a cut face. He was in a very confused state. So Susan, the ex-midwife and Sandra, the ex- policewoman hurried up the road to help. I don't really think he was desperately in need of a midwife or the Polis, but they did their public duty and helped out until the ambulance arrived.

Not being a lawyer or a journalist, I took this photo of the ambulance from a discreet distance.

Hopefully it all turned out OK.

After all of that excitement we went back to Mac and Janet's house where tea, coffee and toilets were provided by our hosts and cakes were provided by me. Hugh managed to get cakes even though he did not go on the walk!

Thanks to everyone who came along and special thanks to Pam for braving the cows and Sandra and Susan for their roadside assistance.

Thanks also to Jacque for being brave enough to go for a long walk in the countryside well away from any toilets.