The shots of the hare carcass and eagles have mysteriously vanished from my computer, so here is the highland cow who stares at me when I ride my bike.
My favourite, perfectly non-fictional conversation from today:
Scene: Somewhere in the Highlands & Islands. In a car. George is a local, and I am giving him a lift home.
Me: You know, George, I think that wood over there is where the golden eagles nest. There's a pair I've seen around a lot -- the ones I saw eating that hare -- and they always seem to go back to the wood around that black house on the hill. I've spotted both of them perching in those trees...
George: Could be, Neil. They wouldn't be disturbed much - the people who own that house came up from down South, but they stopped coming when they discovered it was haunted. (Realises he may have said something wrong. Decides to add something cheery.) At least your place isn't haunted.
Me: No. But it's cursed.
George: I wouldn't pay any attention to that. (Pause. Then, helpfully,) As long as you don't try and leave the house to your son, everyone should be fine.
Michael, my son. Not cursed yet.
PS: Not sure how long I'll be at Number One on this TIME list of the 140 Twitterers to follow -- probably not long -- but you can stop Sarah Palin's inexorable rise into first place by voting for me at http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,2058946_2059139_2059131,00.html
PPS: These black and white photos of fairy tales look more like fairy tales do in my head than anything I've ever seen before: http://www.evilsunday.com/disturbing-fairy-tale-black-white-photos/