A Tale to Tell

After 3 days of not walking, I felt guilty and sluggish.
I was also aware that I hadn't popped past my elderly neighbour for a few days. She's pretty self-sufficient, but has poor mobility and is very lonely.
I stood on her steps and we shared a short chat through the window.
The rain turned to sleet, then snow, then back again, a whirling wind jabbed at my back. I didn't tell her I was going for a walk as she would have told me not to be so silly in such horrible weather.

My camera stayed in my backpack for the first 2 miles or so, but a toddler's shoe abandoned on a stone waymarker caught my eye. It looked forlorn and lonely in the rain. I felt a little sad imagining the tale behind it, but I'm sure the reality is much more mundane.

Further along the track, I got some reasonable shots of a bedraggled Kestrel drying off on a branch.

The loch was more like the sea today with waves breaking on the shore which had reduced markedly in size after days of rain and sleet.

The little island that features so often in my photos was semi-submerged and only the bravest waterfowl were out on the waves.

So, a few Blipossibilities in the bag...

I'd noticed an abandoned garish Christmas wreath in the undergrowth before, and have been of a mind to pick it up and bin it as the tinsel and baubles will never biodegrade and pose a risk to wildlife. I just don't like picking things up anymore in these Covid-19 days.

Today, a flash of natural colour caught my eye.
A single tulip, very much like the one from January 24th, lay like a precious gem in a pile of costume jewellery.
I believe it could be the same tulip.
I believe it may be another page in the same chapter of the story.
I don't know.
It fitted my frame of mind today, so the shoe and the kestrel and the island were pushed aside.