Glencoes spring sky looked bleak; wrathful clouds glared, threatening imminent showers. Columns of light penetrated the cloud, stood as sentinels guarding entrance to the sweeping valley. The scent of springtime was in the air; a new harvest was approaching.
Animals all around were preparing their nests for new siblings and a busy summer. The echoes of songbirds and their merry tunes sang throughout the valley; the season of courtship was upon us.
A crisp breeze was a reminder of a recent winter; Glencoe was still adjusting to the new season. The wind was the only sound of an otherwise silent valley.
Ahead, a small cluster of trees were dwarfed by the gargantuan mountainside rising steeply from the flat. Foliage managed to climb about a third of the way up the mountain face before conceding to the barefaced rock. It looked impossible to climb; the dominant face was almost vertical.
As the clouds began to clear, the cool, shallow waters to my right reflected an ever changing sky. The lake was fringed by marshland and navigable only by the local wildlife.
I continued my march along the lonely valley road and soon encountered a public house,...