14,969 words later and my dissertation is done, and I can emerge from underneath its weight like a woodlouse from a log. I've even timed it perfectly for spring: the day after I finished the conclusion I heard my first Chiffchaff of the year (three weeks late), a singing Jay and had what was most likely an Osprey drift overhead. Today I actually handed it in and went for a spontaneous stroll, the sort of stroll that after two miles turns upwards and into the moors, regardless of the rain. In a sort of miracle, as the track wound up into the Ochils, the wind and rain died down and the sun shone brilliantly on the golden-brown ground against the backdrop of glowering clouds. The moors here are never brilliant for birds, but calling Red Grouse, bubbling Curlew and a discordant flock of Fieldfare provided the accompaniment as the clouds dissipated into sky blue.
No comments:
Post a Comment