Arriving in Evanston, north of Inverness, we were welcomed by Frances and Neil, the aunt and uncle of a friend of ours, who we’d met only once (at the friend’s wedding two years ago), but who had enthusiastically insisted that we must visit them in Scotland if we had the chance. We were served a wonderful home-cooked meal, the we all put on our rain gear and borrowed wellies and set forth with our hostess and her two dogs for an amazing walk through the nearby bit of wilderness. We talked about books, travel, and grammar, as we passed among towering trees and crossed over a gorge hundreds of feet deep, but only a few yards across.

Karen