7.1 miles
After a couple couple of rainy days reading to expand my mind and beers that expanded my waist, I decided on a walk to Kyle of Lochalsh where the train ends and the Skye Bridge begins.
Drumbuie (not scotch liquor), Erbusaig and Badicaul along the way.
The gash in the rock looked like a giant axe had cleaved it open.
The bridge’s height was not to accommodate some mast sailing under but rather the keep level the road above.
The rooster voiced his disapproval of my presence, not blaming him I hurried by.
Warm air from the Atlantic Drift kept these orchid-like flowers and Hardy Fushia in bloom.
I never use headphones when walking. Why should I listen to something I can hear in my chair at home when the song of birds, the melody of wind and the crash of the sea or the sounds of a cascading waterfall are to be discovered by simply being? (To say nothing of the need to hear an approaching vehicle) Look up in cities and buildings for there is often great art to be found where most fail to notice. Smell the air and find new fragrances both pleasing and noxious. Do not simply travel as a tourist but become part of each new place. Life is short and must be taken in in all it’s wonder whenever possible
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