The morning brought a bright and unseasonably warm sunshine so Anna and I set out on our walk at 11.00am. With the younger members of the population back at work and school, the world was quieter and I could enjoy my mental accompaniment of the Louis Jordan number, “Is you is or is you ain’t my baby?”
It seemed that the drivers of every other car waved a greeting to us and even Duncan, the giant black Labrador at the Port-na-Craig Inn, stood against his garden fence and barked a welcome. Our normal Duncan conversation over, we paused on the Port-na-Craig suspension bridge to admire the sight of the water charging across the top of Pitlochry Dam into the swirling waters of the River Tummel until the bridge’s bounce announced the arrival of other walkers: an elderly couple nervous about their crossing until I commented admiringly on their long-haired Jack Russell’s coat and their faces lit up.
Home at 12.15 to a cup of a coffee, an M&S Bakewell tart (for Anna, a canine Christmas pie) and an unusually swift conclusion to the Times Fiendish Sudoku, all still accompanied by my mental Louis Jordan and his appropriate rhythm .
The walk had been a joy from start to finish. No trip to New York or large lottery win could compete with the small delights of this smiling morning.