Goose Fat and Grey Skies

After too much domesticity, I needed to feel the wind--even a cold wind--running through my hair. If you live here you have to like living under a giant sky dome. After my first foray into using goose fat for roast potatoes (good, not greasy as I had fretted) but a bit tricky to manage, and socializing with friends over coffee, I needed a bit more openness.

After a day of grey skies, the clouds lightened just as twilight was setting in. I decided to try to make it to Duncansby Head in time to catch the sunset. As the photo suggests, the lighthouse was already at work (the photo is when the brightest part of the light is away from us--the light is very very bright even at the respectful distance atop a little know of a hill above the lighthouse), but it was still light enough for walking along the paths carved by the sheep.

Alas, my feet--though not large by human standards--are larger than sheep's hooves and not quite as good on slippery mud. Before I had time to realize I was slipping, I was landing with a thunk-squish. The squish, although leaving damp mud along my coats and trouser legs, tempered the fall. It also brought me back to my senses. I had gotten casual about mother nature--I had gone for a Sunday drive and was there alone save for one other photographer now heading down the other side of the hill and it was getting cold quickly and dark. It was easy enough to pick myself up and hustle back to the shelter of my car but it was enough of a reminder to be sensible as well as romantic.