Rannoch Moor in the Western Highlands of Scotland is a wild and bleak place, bleakly beautiful on a day like this above, but a killer in bad weather.
But is this just about the Moor?
OVER RANNOCH MOOR
I wandered over Rannoch Moor in my mind
By an old track where dragonflies veered and hovered
Round the boggy margins of a lochan
Past the last stones of a long-fallen shieling
And there was nothing to do, nothing to fear
The wide and shifting sky was blue and grey
Only a single unseen skylark singing.
Lochan: a small loch or lake.
Shieling: a summer shelter for herdsmen and maybe animals; a small farm building in upland Scotland and Northern England.