The Borders in the gloaming; the gloaming in the Borders.
In reiver country for much of the last week. The ranks of alien conifers and denuded hillsides beyond are all but devoid of Black Grouse; atop the ridge the peaty-puddled heathery plateau is free of Hen Harrier; and the carbon dioxide in the sky above is tipping the balance at 400 ppm.
Take a bow everybody,... take a bow.
1 comment:
My new eye candy while out running on the cycle path is the giant A1 sliproad they are building to link to a new estate of cheap box houses...
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