I am repairing an old dyke that marks the bounds between two houses in Kilcreggan. One is modern but the other, like so many houses in the village, is a piece of Victorian grandeur in minature with things like sculpted stone window details and ornamented wooden eaves.
It's almost 40 miles by road for me so last night I camped on an old jetty near the village. The jetty is two
parallel mortared dykes with boulders between. Its long since tackety boots crunched on the stone and it now wears a coat of turf where clusters of pink thrift and sea campion dance in the wind. As darkness fell a riotous assembly of pipestrelle bats gathered giving wild chase to each other. Try as I might I could not hear their flight, even when they performed quick fire swoops and dives but two feet away.
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