I’m walking one of the sections of coastal path on Westray. At least a path is what I call it. There’s actually no path, and much of it is a scramble on seaweed, alternating with arguments with barbed wire fences, which seem to be impassable without experiencing them at inside-leg measurement level.
I’m almost at the far southern tip of the island, at Cubby Geo, when I’m engulfed in a flock of Twite. They are active, lively birds and seem to have landed all around me, confused by the hillock I was behind and the strong blustery winds. I spend time simply enjoying being surrounded by them before I think maybe getting a photograph would be a good idea.
It’s fitting that I took a photograph on the barbed wire fence which left me with two holes, one in my trousers and one in my pride.