Yesterday, we all marveled at our good fortune. Five days of walking the West Highland Way with absolutely sublime weather – crisp Autumn mornings, cool afternoons, scattered clouds – perfect for hiking.
So, of course, Day 6 would start in a misty drizzle. It stayed like that off and on all day.
“A perfect Scottish morning!” I replied to one hiker’s greeting.
“It wouldn’t be Scotland without rain,” she replied with a laugh.
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If Van Morrison had taken the walk with me today from Inverernan to Crainlarich, he’d surely want to write a song about it. He’s not a Scot, sure, but I think he’d get it in his Celtic heart. Titles like “A Sense of Wonder,” “Into the Mystic,” “In the Garden,” and even “Cyprus Avenue” were in rotation in my head as I walked beside the River Falloch.
This was a gentle one — thank God, after yesterday — no rock piles to climb, few inclines to surmount, no risk to life and limb.
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Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 