Sunday, April 03, 2005

...We moved on, the flocks of sheep like clotted cream on the green baize of the turf, the sun brilliant above us. We had come muffed up against the reputedly inclement weather of the Shetland Islands and now found ourselves sweating and discarding coats and pullovers. Presently, the land started to drop away to precipitous cliffs and beyond was the Atlantic, blue as gentian flowers.


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