Loch of Wasdale

Caught the bus to Finstown and walked through the small wood at Binscarth, which was pungent with the smell of wild garlic.
Onto the snowy track to Wasdale and I counted thirty-one whooper swans on the Loch of Wasdale. I could see another snow shower coming so thought it a good moment to retreat to the derelict bus at a farm nearby. It hasn't been there long and is weather-tight and quite comfortable. I might move in if I can figure out how to hang enough curtains.
I made coffee and had some cheesecake for a treat. Silence and the snow swirling outside.
When I left, the shower had passed but the sky was still grey and the loch reflected the grey above. I thought the swans had left with the snow, but it was just that they were harder to see. As the sky cleared the loch became blue and the swans seemed to magically reappear from the water.

More from the walk here.