From the air

Scotland small?
Our multiform, our infinite Scotland SMALL?
Only as a patch of hillside may be a cliché corner to a fool who cries ‘Nothing but heather!’

I’m up at 6 and on the road within minutes. The road to Inverness is clear, but white snow sparkles in every direction as the sun rises. The A9 is all average speed cameras, so I make good us of cruise control.

I get to Inverness so early that I visit Mel, who I haven’t seen for years. She has two teenagers and a newborn - which is making it hard for her to fit in the shift work of nursing. Still smiling, though, and making a fine cup of tea.

I have a cheese roll at the airport, sitting looking out over a bright, glistening air field. And then the flight is amazing - no cloud, all of the highlands spread beneath us, white undulations spreading westwards into the sea.

The cloud cover thickens as we head south and it’s raining when I pick up my hire car at Heathrow. More cruise control gets me to Little Bedwyn, where mum is having a nap.

We catch up on Family news, sort out printing from her iPad, and have some supper. Then it’s crossword time (the easy one), an arctic nature program on BBC4, and bed.