Pigs in thistles

After a thankfully uneventful night in the Hilton (whoops, sorry, that name just slipped out), I spent a morning in a meeting then got the train(s) back home. Everything ran to time today, which was quite unusual (the meeting and the trains).

Yesterday, on my way down, I had observed that the famous black pigs of Carstairs junction were nowhere to be seen - oh dear, surely not already gone for bangers every one? I considered blipping the strange bony sheep with big ears that also live at Carstairs, but couldn't get a shot of them.

I was strangely pleased on my way back this afternoon to see that the black pigs were still there, just not in their customary mud and pigloos. They appeared to have been sent into an enclosure of thistles and old tyres to see what they could make of it.