The world is green. You can see how green in the photo of my wee green tent beside the loch deep in the wilds of Affric, surrounded by very green mountains. Nature is green. Nature is wonderful. On a trip into her bower this summer solstice she gave me gifts I could never have imagined. The calm solitude of a midsummer night by the loch, watching a heron being mobbed by a fish. The sound of the splashing bringing the silence deeper into me. The sunset singing colourfully across the sky, burning red to gold to pink to grey as I stood on the shore for an hour and a half, barely moving an inch. Standing, watching and hearing the sun stir the silence with a thousand colours. Thinking on the troubles of our world I realised the destruction going on had stirred nature into action. Nature is fed up with humans. Nature wants her planet back. The thought made me wonder, how green am I?

In which direction will writing take me? Online or the written page.

With the wind swinging round to the north east and the freezing level dropping onto the highest tops, I thought it would be fun, amidst the mayhem, to recreate an old photograph I have from almost 40 years ago, of a stove purring on a summit, sending plumes of steam into the cool mountain air. I also thought it would be fun to touch the freezing level.

With Phase 1 of leaving lockdown announced yesterday, to start today and the guidance to stay near or within your local area, it was off to An Stac with Mrs. Stravaiger.

The land is so dry it’s a relief to see grey curtains of rain wrapping the hills. Like chain mail hanging from a giant war horse jumping the Clach Glas ridge and trailing the over the Red Hills.

Another day of lockdown. Another day of traffic free roads, blazing sunshine and birdsong echoing in the trees. The allotted time spent on the bike, spinning on the quiet roads, looking longingly at the familiar mountains but loving every mile of the ride.

Another day, another lockdown. Sunny and windy with a brewing gale from the north, it was a good time for a spin on the bike. Just before Broadford it was a bit of a shock to see a snake of brightly coloured people crammed onto the quad bike track to the loch. It was the greatest concentration of humanity I’d seen in, let me see now, three weeks! Quite a shock indeed.

Being confined to the local area, working from home and avoiding social contact (hoorah on that one!), I had plenty time, like all day, to work on the bike.

Deserted roads. Deserted skies. Deserted hills. With the country in lockdown for potentially the next three weeks, the rules allow one form of daily exercise. From the front door. No driving to anywhere. Only one form of exercise, either walking, running or cycling.

Almost a year ago I betook myself and Fatty McFat Bike to the wonderful Isle of Rum. I made a wee film about the trip and looking back on it, the lack of people, the peace, the silence, were not only invigorating and renewing but those scenes now seem to hold a hint of prescience.