#Loch Bà

[scrapblring]

Loch Ba by Kyle Bonallo (ig: @kylebonallo)

[thefivekins]

(banner photography by Neil Burnell)

LEGENDARY FIGURES.

Half Moon

A clairvoyant molly that lived in the village where Cirrus and Nimbus were born. Treated as the village’s oracle by the local cats, Half Moon was sought after by many for her connection to the Fae and the spirits of cats since passed that she called the Star-Eyed. They would tell her of the future through omens and prophecies– not all of them made sense, but all of them turned out to be true in some shape or form. No one knew much about Half Moon before her days in the village. She succumbed to illness at an old age, the same illness that drove the future Kin cats to their new home, but not before revealing the destinies of Cirrus and Nimbus who stood at her side.

Midnight, the Badger of the Sea

Just as mysterious as Half Moon, if not more, Midnight is a badger with similar abilities. She is said to live in a cave along the ocean cliffs, welcoming weary travellers no matter the species or quest. She too has a connection to the Star-Eyed (or StarKin, as we know them today) despite not being a cat. It is said that many moons ago she helped the Kins’ ancient ancestors in their time of need.

Midnight is known for sheltering Cirrus and Nimbus’s cats on their way to the territories after experiencing hardships that lowered their morale. She told them that they had an incredible destiny ahead of them and that their paths would forever change history. Midnight warned Cirrus of his treacherous downfall, stating that it wasn’t too late to prevent future events. Confident in his own will and decisions, Cirrus refused to believe her.

Protector of the Moon: Gealach

A lynx that leaves a bitter frost on the ground she walks. Gealach rescued the moon from the bottom of a loch and pushed it into the sky.

Protector of the Sun: Grain

A massive ancient elk, said to leave a trail of flame in his path. Grain hoisted the sun into the air with his mighty antlers.

Patron of Life: Beatha

A common figure to the Fae realm, Beatha appears as both a brown bear and a butterfly, depending on the season. United overseer of the Fae, it only appears to those in this realm on very rare occasions, those of which are said to bring the best of luck. However, it is common to dream of it as a mother or a kit. Butterflies and caterpillars are said to be its eyes in the cats’ realm.

Patron of Death: Bàs

Said to be the collective parent of the grims and black dogs of the land, Bàs appears as a large, shadowy canine. Aligned with the Fae, both Seelie and Unseelie, it appears to other animals as an ill omen for tragedy or death. It rarely speaks. It is said to be the last thing an animal sees before it dies, guiding their spirit to their respected afterlife in the end.

Bàs is a guardian of the Dark Forest.

The Distant Kingdoms

Legendary figures from a faraway land; giant cats that came before those we know today. Only myths and names survive; Lion, Tiger, Leopard.

[spartacus80]

Embarking on a road trip along the North Coast 500 (NC500) in the stunning Scottish Highlands is a dream come true for any avid traveler. The NC500 offers a breathtaking journey through some of Scotland's most picturesque landscapes, from rugged coastlines to towering mountains, with the promise of kind-hearted locals, thrilling roads, historic castles, tranquil lochs, fine whisky, and delicious food along the way. Imagine a trip where every day feels like a postcard-worthy adventure, and you've got the NC500.

The North Coast 500 is a 516-mile circular route that starts and ends in Inverness. The journey takes you along the coast, offering an ever-changing panorama of breathtaking scenery. The route passes through quaint villages, historic towns, and remote wilderness, providing a well-rounded experience of the Scottish Highlands.

One of the highlights of our NC500 adventure was the incredible weather we experienced. Scotland is notorious for its unpredictable climate, but we were fortunate to have mostly sunny and clear days. This meant that we could fully appreciate the mesmerizing landscapes, from the azure waters of the North Sea to the emerald green fields and dramatic mountain ranges.

The Scottish Highlands are not just known for their natural beauty but also for the warmth of their people. Everywhere we went, we encountered friendly locals who were more than happy to share their stories and offer helpful advice. Their welcoming nature made our journey all the more memorable.

For those who enjoy the thrill of the open road, the NC500 doesn't disappoint. The route is dotted with winding, narrow roads that snake through the countryside, offering a truly exhilarating driving experience. The famous Bealach na Bà, a steep and winding mountain pass, is a highlight for adventure-seeking drivers. Each twist and turn reveals a new breathtaking vista.

No trip to Scotland would be complete without exploring its rich history, and the NC500 offers plenty of opportunities to do just that. We visited historic castles like Dunrobin Castle and the iconic Eilean Donan Castle, set against the backdrop of sparkling lochs and lush landscapes. It felt like stepping back in time.

Whisky lovers will be in their element along the NC500 route. We stopped at several distilleries to sample some of Scotland's finest single malts. From the peaty flavors of Islay to the smooth Speyside varieties, each distillery had its unique character and charm. It's an excellent way to appreciate Scotland's national drink in its homeland.

Foodies will relish the chance to savor traditional Scottish dishes on this journey. We indulged in hearty meals like haggis, neeps, and tatties, as well as freshly caught seafood in coastal villages. And let's not forget about the famous Scottish breakfasts that kept us energized for our daily adventures.

Our road trip along the NC500 in the Scottish Highlands was nothing short of magical. With perfect weather, warm-hearted locals, thrilling drives, historic landmarks, whisky tastings, and mouthwatering cuisine, it's a journey that will forever hold a special place in our hearts. If you're seeking an unforgettable adventure that combines nature's grandeur with cultural richness, the NC500 is the perfect route to explore. It's an experience that will leave you with cherished memories and a deep appreciation for the wonders of Scotland's Highlands.

[caos-y-misterios]

 Loch Bà - Highlands

[countesscupcake]

 Loch Bà - Highlands

[menospreciado]

 Loch Bà - Highlands

[guaraninkafein]

 Loch Bà - Highlands

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

Loch Bà Rannoch Moor

Eilean Donan Castle and the Milky Way

Elgol Isle of Skye

Glenfinnan Loch Shiel

Instagram fiona.a.campbell

[zoezenii]

So Bree and her companions’ backstories have finally be revealed so I can show all these off now. (Fair warning these drawings are all quite a few years old lol)

Info about Bree’s backstory under the cut (tw for parental abuse, physical abuse, self-harm)

Bree was born in a small cottage, that rested at the peak of a hill, overlooking the village of Loch Bàs and the lake for which the village got its name. Her parents were two very miserable and unstable people who didn’t know how to take care of a child, but didn’t want the town to get into their business. As unapproachable and rude people, Bree’s parents, who were called Ida and Conall O’Malley, were kept at a distance from the town. No one daring to push or pry into their private lives.

With a small cottage far up the hill, Bree’s birth and the early years of her lives were spent without anyone except her parents knowing about her existence. As she grew older, Bree was taught by her mother to read and would often spend time studying and exploring the forest surrounding the entire village, cottage, and its fields. She was a bright-eyed and extremely clever child who read everything her mother had and occasionally would bring home on trips. Getting older, her parents also grew more and more unstable and abusive. Attacking and screaming at each other, as well as taking their anger and frustration on Bree.

Around the age of 12, Bree woke to her parents in a heated and aggressive fight. Her father hitting her mother and gathering his things as she screamed at him. He slammed the door shut, and after he did, Bree watched as her mother began to perform a magical ritual. (Bree was startled but also in awe, having never seen magic before.) Her mother performed her spell, which ended in her taking an ancient and magical dagger, and stabbing herself in her heart with it. The magic caused green flames to engulf the house but spread over everything, leaving it unharmed.

Bree’s father had been leaving town just before he caught on fire, those same green flames reducing his body to ash and bone. Moiré, the leader of the village, sought to investigate the magical power and put an end to whatever had happened. When Moiré entered the cottage, she found Bree’s mother dead, and it was only moments after studying the scene that she heard a noise in a nearby. Investigating, Moiré found the small, shaking tiefling girl, hiding in a small makeshift bed.

From that point on, Moiré took responsibility for Bree and raised her as her own. Bree was introduced to the town and given her own room, all the food she could want, and all the little, simple comforts she had not known before. She grew up under Moiré, who was strict but extremely loving to not just her, but everyone in Loch Bàs. Bree’s curiosity and interest flourished. She grew closer and closer to the small town and eventually became a well-loved, endearing character that was looked after by all.

Eventually she moved back into her parents cottage, after a tense argument with Moiré, in order to have her own space and a closer place to the forest she had grown up to love so very, very much. She wanted a place to study and be alone to read without any disruptions from the townsfolk or just town in general. She and Moiré completely redecorated the cottage and worked to make it unrecognizable, the place she had grown up w her parents.

The story of Bree’s departure from her town and how she met her patron, I can also share, but I will collect some art and maybe make some before I tell that next part~

[witchyfictional]

Week 12 pt.2 (SPRING 12/13)

Professional Log of Harper Tobin, Journeyman Witch

[see PART 1 here]

Additional Notes:

Cleaning all the yeti hair off of my bed and out of my kitchen motivated me to find a contractor in town and pay 300 silver for an actual Treatment Room to get built alongside the apothecary cottage. I’m getting pretty tired of cleaning the entire house and disinfecting my own furniture after every patient. I was told it could be finished and ready by the end of the week, which was a relief. I instructed Dwayne to supervise the proceedings and make sure everyone stays on track.

After taking care of that problem, I went to find Ariadne Soriah in the tavern she’s been staying in. I took her out to tea and told her about my struggle with Bàs Bàta’s remedy these past several weeks, and everything that happened today when I was finally able to treat the creature. I described what I glimpsed at the bottom of Meltwater Loch, and asked if it might possibly be in line with what she’s been searching for – the ancient underwater city she want to study. Ariadne was extremely excited and drilled me for all the details. It seems this might be a lead after all.

We picked up some supplies in town and headed out for the Loch, stopping briefly at the Boot & Breakfast (the giant’s shoe where the Trippins live and work) to tell Calliope of our discovery and invite her along. She grabbed her gear as well and the three of us set out on an expedition together. We made our way to the beach, took our breathing pills and dove into the water close to the place I’d last encountered Bàs Bàta. Ariadne was in it for her studies, Calliope and I mostly for the adventure of it – although I also was pretty eager to do some foraging along the way. Specifically, I want to find another of that Fossil Fish that Calliope gave me a few months back. Señor SkeleFins is a dearly sentimental pet by now, and I would be loathe to have to utilize him for a remedy, no matter how valuable he might be.

As we swam just past the sunken pirate ship, the lake bottom dropped into a deeper slope and we could see farther down into its depths. From such a distance – who knew a lake could be this deep? But then, this is also home to a sea dragon and sunken pirate ships, so what do I know – we could not see much, but we certainly saw enough to hint that there was more than sand and algae below. Mysterious silhouettes and the occasional flicker of strange light drew us forward, down farther and farther. We had to take several rests before continuing, but eventually we found ourselves entering a wondrous landscape of ruins rising up from the lakebed. Spires and citadels, gardens and great stone bridges all crusted over with coral and surrounded by shining schools of fish. Among the ruins there were numerous glowing figures drifting about in slow patterns, too far away for us to make out clearly.

We descended into a courtyard to decide where we would explore first. As we swam around the next corner we encountered the sight of a brightly colored merfolk swimming ahead of us. They had hair like fiery red coral and skin tinged a pale, minty green. Its tricky to guess at gender, since they aren’t mammalian and don’t have some of the same differentiating features that we do, but they were very beautiful. The way they moved was mesmerizing, like a spectacular, glittering dance. We were spellbound.

They eventually noticed our staring and approached, beaming widely. We tried to greet them but we quickly found that we didn’t share any language, although we made a very determined attempt using mostly pantomime and hand signs. It’s difficult to say for sure what they wanted to tell us, but I got the hunch that they were celebrating the banishment of Bàs Bàta’s wrath. At some point they tugged at our hands and drew us into dancing with them, humming a slightly surreal but lovely melody. Their voice resonated in the water in a similar way that Bàs Bàta’s did, but on a much smaller and less unsettling scale.

Ariadne has dubbed our new friend “Coral,” because it’s thematic and sounds vaguely similar to the word they used when they seemed to be trying to tell us their name. After we all had our fill of dancing, Coral stuck with us as an impromptu tour guide to the sunken city. The place is magnificent and enormous. I am certain we won’t be able to see it all in one outing. It’s not all dancing and sightseeing, either – as we drifted through the sunken streets, we were able to see those glowing shapes from befores a little more clearly, and realized that each and every one of them was a a ghost. Unsure which, if any, were malevolent, we followed Coral’s lead and did our best to avoid their notice.

As we passed what seemed to be an ancient temple domed in colored glass, which was somehow mostly intact, I finally spotted a Fossil Fish around one of the open archways. I was able to catch it, but then there was a sudden shriek as a ghost darted at me from inside. I’ve never gone up against a ghost (at least, none free of suits of armor). I had no idea how to react. Although it seemed to be trying to strangle me, it passed right through me – harmless, physically – and then faded into the silt. I was paralyzed for several breaths as my vision blurred into what was probably a memory, or the echo of a memory.

The courtyard was under the sun instead of underwater; the air smelled like salt and iron. My hands – which weren’t actually my hands but someone else’s – were wrapped around somebody’s throat. I felt them squeezing and shaking and I felt my teeth gritting painfully and in the distance I could hear another voice screaming…

…Then it all abruptly ended, and I was back in the muffled quiet of the lake, although my hand were still shaking. Although I was fine, and I told my friends I was fine, and we continued our exploration, it took me a while to shake it all off to be honest.

I found another Fossil Fish just before the end of the expedition. Or, well, the end of the expedition for me. After bottling my second catch up, I thought I saw another through the cracks in a stone wall, but it turns out it wasn’t a Fossil Fish. It was a breed I’m unfamiliar with, and it fed from me in a jet of warm water sprayed directly into my face. I lost consciousness, and am writing this now in the wagon home, having only woken up hours later. I’ve already apologized to the others for the necessity of dragging my limp body around.

I’m very embarrassed, but also a little intrigued by the incident. Whatever that fish sprayed at me gave me intensely vivid dreams – not at all horrible like the vision I had from the ghost; these were very, very good dreams. The details will remain private, but I will say I feel extremely well-rested for the first time in weeks, and I’m finally feeling like I’ve got the hang of it here in High Rannoc. It’s an exciting place, and I feel like I have the energy to take on aynthing now.

OOC: Rep – 19 [Intermediate] Silver – 74 Tools – basics / coracle / sickle (+2 foraging points) Familiar skill – Hunter (-3 to find Animal reagents) Golem Helper: supervising construction

Upgrades: – Garden plot (x1; Surgeon Sap) – Raven Loft (take 2 jobs; if both on time, x2 pay for second draw) – Treatment Room (+3 all Timers, +10 silver /successful potion)

Surplus reagents: ** Surgeon Sap [wound] [burn] [+1s]  — (freely available) *** Amethyst Antlers [magic] [curse] [mood] — (x2) ~Candy Rock [+4s] — (x1) * Coldrust [hot] [magic] — (x1) * Deep Reed [ear] [blood] [stomach] — (x1) ** Dentist Crabs [teeth] [mouth] [lungs] [infection] — (x1) ** Foot Fungus [burn] [boils] [rash] [+2p] — (x2) *** Fossil Fish [time] [magic] — (x3) * Gas Weed [lungs] — (x1) *** Ghost Goo [spirit] [curse] — (x1) ** Glittersnow [curse] [magic] — (x1) * Hermit Snails [wound] [bones] — (x1) *** Innocent’s Suffering [pain] [sleep] [nerves] [wound] — (x2) ! *** Jumpkin [stomach] [cold] — (x1) ** Mermaid’s Gift [hair] [+1p] — (x1) *** Moon Moss [blood] [curse] — (x1) ** Princess Toad [wart] [rash] [mood] — (x1) * Scramble Bramble [mood] [senses] [+1p] — (x1) * Skullcap [poison] [pain] — (x4) **Shadow Shark [pain] [burn] [rash] [-1s] — (x1) ** Shockfish [nerves] [pain] [boils] — (x3) * Silverleaf [infection] [rash] — (x1) *** Wigfish [mood] [sleep] [hair] — (x2)

[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 4 part 3

After my hectic experience with the marshbloom, I decided to take a day for myself. Greenmoor isn’t anywhere near the ocean, but Meltwater Loch is big enough that I figured a day spent there could be considered a beach day. And after the couple of weeks I’d had, boy did I need a beach day.

But anyone who’s read this far ought to be familiar with my luck by now. There’s a lot to record, but I’ll try to get it down in order.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

It was a beautiful day—clear blue sky, warm air, and (at least when I first arrived) no one around at Meltwater Loch. I spread out a towel on the beach and laid down for a good session of sunbathing. I’ve never been one for tanning, but  simply laying doing nothing while being warmed by the sun and cooled by the breeze felt absolutely decadent.

After a while of simply existing, I became aware of the sound of a bird calling above me. I cracked my eyes open and recognized the large forms of a pair of gull-drakes flying overhead. Gull-drakes are a strange hybrid, both reptilian and avian. Their torsos and wings are feathered, while their heads, tails, and talons are scaled. They do have beaks like gulls, but their tails are prehensile like their alleged draconic ancestors’. I say ‘alleged’ because no one knows how the hybrid gull-drake came into being. The sheer anatomy and scale discrepancy between the average seagull and the average dragon fossil (they were much larger in ancient times than the pocket-sized lizards we have today) seems to rule out any cross-breeding. Additionally, the typical combination of traits displayed by gull-drakes is too awkward and ungainly to be the result of natural selection. And yet, there have been records of the gull-drake’s existence for just about as long as there have been records—the third-oldest surviving written document, in fact, is a bestiary which includes them along dozens of other species, most of which are now extinct.

Nature is a strange thing.

Digressions aside, there was a reason this caught my attention. Gull-drakes are scavengers, and have been known to leave catches uneaten while they go out to hunt for more. It’s just an evolutionary quirk—they prefer to feast only once per day. This means that, as they leave their nests unattended, some other opportunistic creature could come by and steal their catch. 

It’s easy to identify a gull-drake nest, too—they tend to be very large, and are often positioned balanced atop large, pointy rocks. If a gull-drake catches you stealing, though, it’ll chase you and squawk at you and try to peck you until you drop the stolen goods and flee. They’re not too smart, though, so hiding in nearby foliage (say, a patch of large ferns) will fool them easily.

All of this to say, I managed to get myself a shock fish without a rod, all while only getting chased a little ways by a jealous, stupid bird.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

As I returned to my towel, I heard an unusual sound—the put-put-put of a motor. Machinery of that kind is a fairly new invention, and unless you know how to make it, very expensive.

The woman driving the boat certainly looked like she knew how to make a motor. She was dwarven, with russet hair and a long beard, both held in thick braids. She was (as dwarves are) rather short—I'd estimate maybe one-and-a-fifth meters tall, and nearly as wide—with large hands and feet, and limbs thickly corded with muscle. She wore dark green coveralls and had a fairly heavy-duty fishing rod held in one hand so that it rested on her shoulder.

She shut the motor off as she neared and called out to me, asking if I was the village witch. I said that I was, and she told me that she was friends with my crocodilian patient. She thanked me for helping him, and said he would have been a goner without my potion-making skills. I demurred just a bit, saying I wasn't the only healer who helped him that day. She scoffed and dismissed my humility outright, saying that I might as well have been the only one—that without my care the village doctor wouldn't have been able to do anything.

She introduced herself as Janneth Hillhorn, and I told her my name in turn. She asked what I was doing out by Meltwater Loch and I told her I was taking a day off. She let me know that her cottage was just around the other side of the lake, near Glimmerwood Grove and right on the border of Blastfire Bog, and that I should feel free to stop in any time. I thanked her.

At this point, there was a tremor in the water. It couldn't have been an earthquake because the land wasn't shaking, but the water abruptly became much more active. Ocean-like waves crashed into the shore and Janneth held tight onto the sides of her boat, doing her best not to capsize. I would have been quite alarmed in her situation, but Janneth barely seemed preturbed. I asked something along the lines of "what the blight is going on?!" As the water settled, Janneth told me that this was a common occurence on Meltwater Loch, a quirk that—many said—was due to the emotions of its guardian sea-dragon, Bàs Bàta. I found this explanation rather silly, reminiscent of an old wives' tale. I'd never heard of a sea-dragon before, and given that the name ‘Bàs Bàta’ directly translated to "boat death," I figured it was just a local story told to frighten children and dismissed it out of hand.

Astute readers should be growing worried for me right about now.

Janneth offered to give me one of the fish she'd caught as a thanks for helping her friend. I initially refused, but she insisted. She looked through her basket and pulled out a dentist crab. The gel their claws produce is good for the mouth and plenty else besides, so I accepted and thanked her. She thanked me right back and said (perhaps jokingly?) not to run afoul of Bàs Bàta while I was out by the loch. I forced a laugh as she sped away.

Once she was out of sight, I collected some claw gel from the dentist crab and released it back into the water.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

There was another rumbling as I made my way back to the beach, and as it abated I saw something bob up to the surface of the water close to the shore. It presented itself, et cetera et cetera, I waded in to see what it was.

I scooped it out of the water and found myself holding a glass bottle, like the kind that rum or sweet wine would come in, sealed with a cork and containing a rolled-up sheet of paper. Of course, I opened it immediately. I found that the sheet inside wasn’t quite *paper,* but something more slippery—maybe made of seaweed? It did have writing on it, though. As I unfurled it, a few things that looked like pebbles fell out. I barely managed to catch them before they hit the surface of the water. I put them in my pocket for safe keeping.

The writing on the note was as follows, with no spelling changes by me:

Let it be known that I fink this whole exercise is stupid. And pointless. And probly meant as some kind of sick, twisted punishment. No one but little kids believe in terrafolk, so I don’t know why the instructress is making us do this.

Even if anyfing could live above the water, there’s no way its advanced enough to read. How would it get all the minerals it needs wivout processing the water?

But anyway. I guess I ave to fulfill the prompt. 

Me name is Genoveva, I live in the I.S.A.C.S. (that's short for 'Isolated Sovereign Aquatic City-State, but we all just pronounce it like 'Isax") and I’m in the fifth year of me education. I hate me name. I wish I could ave somefing exotic like a John or a Steve or a Sarah, but I’m stuck wiv boring old Genoveva. If you’re somehow able to read this, that must mean you ave schools on the surface, too. Wat ar they like? Ar they as boring up there? We all ave to sit in a circle and listen to the instructress drone on and on and on.

I live wiv me merma and me perpa and me two baby brothers. Do you ave family? I've got loads of cousins too.

On the rubric it says I ave to include a small gift, so I'm putting some fossil fish scales in wiv this letter. I found em on me way to school this morning and there not of use to me, but I figure you probly don't ave fish on land so maybe scales ar valuable up there.

If you're inclined to write back (no pressure), you can just pop your note in the bottle and put it back into the water. It'll find its way to me—there's magic all around, don't you know.

Signed,

Genoveva Galbrait, 5th year

[An accessible version of this letter can be found here.]

The letter obviously has some pretty complex implications. An entire society under the surface of Meltwater Loch, entirely unaware of the world above the surface beyond fairy stories? What must life be like down there? What kind of society must they have? How do they supply food? Get rid of waste?

What resources might be available there that can't be found on the surface?

I decided that somehow I was going to find a way to visit ISACS, and learn everything I could about it. I bet that would impress the University of Arcbridge. I wasn't sure how I would breathe under the water for long enough, but I was determined to find a way.

Take your final guesses now what happened next.

That water-quaking started up again, this time stronger than before. Waves crashed against the beach where I stood, and I felt a great vibration in my chest and in my head. 

And then, it broke the surface of the water.

Giant and blue-green and serpentine, Bàs Bàta rose up before me. A blighting sea-dragon, it stood straight up in the air at least twice as tall as my cottage—and that was just the part of its body I could see. Its head was shaped like the tip of an arrow, with three great spikes sprouting out of the back (the outer two longer than the middle one). It let loose another deep roar, dousing me in spittle. It thrashed about, causing great waves to crash onto the shore, and through my shock I realized its movements might be less characteristic of anger than of pain.

My suspicions were confirmed when it roared again: one of the fangs right near the front of its mouth was missing a chip, and had a great crack running nearly all the way up to the root. That had to hurt. I'd never treated a non-humanoid  before���or, for that matter, a cracked tooth—but I realized even past the moral obligation to help, there was no way I could access the underwater city-state without calming Bàs Bàta down.

I found out later, after I'd scrambled away from the lake and sprinted back to the cottage, after wiping the saliva off of me and getting at least some of it in a bottle for potion use, that the saliva was actually a really useful ingredient in treating shattered teeth. As it turns out, it's a pretty strong painkiller. Unfortunately, I knew I'd need more than just that to make a cure, and with the sheer size of Bàs Bàta, I suspected I'd need to make more than one potion.

That will have to be a longer term project, then, because the events of my relaxation day have worn me out. I've got to get to bed. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

⇦●〇●⇨

[danscape]

Loch Ba sunset last night. Currently praying for the 10mins of sunshine forecast tomorrow to actually happen. (at Loch Bà, Rannoch Moor) https://www.instagram.com/p/B559DCaBurH/?igshid=zjr06z38vizi

[girlwithouthands]

Many know the Moor, then, but relatively few enter it, for it is vast and trackless and has a reputation for hostility at all times of year. Sea storms blow across it, funnelling down through Glen Coe. It is a high-level, hyena-coloured prairie - etched and roughened by glaciers, and still bearing the marks of those harrowings. Skeins of swans land on its two main lochs, intricate Loch Bà and antler-shaped Loch Laidon. On a clear night, from the top of one of the mountains that surround it, you can see its uncounted lochans, streams and rivers gleaming in the moonlight. It is only at such moments that you realise how much of the Moor is made of water.

Robert Macfarlane, “Moor” The Wild Places

[scotianostra]

Good Morning from Scotland.

Frozen Blue - Loch Bà, Rannoch Moor by Steven Marshall Via Flickr: On cold January morning, having set my DSLR up to take winter sunrise on the Black Mount behind me, I thought I’d make the most of standing in knee deep snow at -7°C and take this shot on my iPhone, of a frozen and snow covered Loch Bà. Taken with my iPhone - the best camera you have is the one you have with you.

[pattatie]

Bealach na Ba Strathcarron - NW Scotland Highlands by Ratters1968: Thanks for the Views and Favs:) The Bealach na Bà is a curvy mountainous road located in the Applecross peninsula, Highland, Scotland. This twisting, single-track mountain road is the third highest road in Scotland rising up to 626 metres (2,054 ft) above the sea level. It's one of the most scenic drives in the world. The view shot in the background is looking back at the Isle of Skye and the waters of the Inner Sound and Loch Carron. The photograph does not give enough justice to the incredible height and surroundings of this amazing viewing point. https://flic.kr/p/2k5K8PY

[wisbechtownuk]

A road snakes up to the viewpoint of Bealach na Bà from the inlet of Loch Kishorn. Find the best places to see beautiful fall colours this autumn around the world. Including the best places for fall colours in Canada, China, France, and USA

A road snakes up to the viewpoint of Bealach na Bà from the inlet of Loch Kishorn. Find the best places to see beautiful fall colours this autumn around the world. Including the best places for fall colours in Canada, China, France, and USA via Lonely Planet https://ift.tt/2H0AwSc