|The Cairngorms at Dusk|
After days of wind and rain the weather calmed late in the afternoon. The wind dropped, the skies started to clear and the rain ceased. The fields and woods sparkled with wetness. The tracks and paths were slick with mud. To the south the big mountains were grey silhouettes backed by thick rolls of cloud. Remaining clouds were tinged with pink. A buzzard perched high and watchful in a tall pine. Wild cries had me looking up. A skein of geese, passing right overhead, heading west.
|A Touch of Pink over the Cromdale Hills|
The leaves have been stripped from most trees and they stand stark and bare, ready for winter. There is some colour left though, in the larches, often the last to fade, and in low willows protected from the wind.
|Bare birch, yellow willow|
After dark the rain returned though without the wind. That’s due tomorrow when a big storm is meant to blow in, the aptly named Abigail. There are weather warnings. There often are this time of year. Snow is forecast for the Cairngorm summits. Will it come? Will it stay? Is this the start of winter? We shall see.