Yesterday was one of those glorious winter days that brighten up the heart, so the highlight of the day was a trip to Moine Mhor near Crinan. Apparently it is the oldest “living bog” in Europe. Exactly what “living” means in this context I am not sure. But the air was alive with the sound of bird-calls, the herons were fishing the shallows, teal were massing and fussing in the reeds, curlews were full of noisy banter and the whole place was teeming with feeding and resting birds.
I guess that is more than enough to warrant the term “living”