There's something that's both very vain and very voyeuristic about blogging. Unlike a diary you have to be aware (even hope) that someone else is reading what you write. On one hand it has to be personal and on the other there are still personal limits that you can choose to impose or not.

Every so often when the mood takes me (and deadlines don't) I hit that button at the top of the blog page that says 'Next Blog' and it takes to me to random pages. It's a great exercise in life and it takes you to places and people that you'd probably never visit by everyday choice. Most you flick past, some you don't. In the last year I've witnessed the musings of people in tens of different countries and sometimes in languages that I barely understand. There's been everyday stories of a family's life, the diary of a New York photogrpaher, pages advertising stocks and shares, the chroniciling of an international couple's illicit affair (note to self: don't have affair and certainly don't create a permenant dialogue on-line). A few months back I saw a picture of a beautiful asian face and decided to save it to my drive for art reference whenever I got around to painting or illustrating again. The site was run by a blogger called Lisa, an openly gay writer who explained to her readers that after a wild and crazy life she's apparently just fallen in love with a girl named Ayumi. This week, cycling back to the page, I glanced at the latest entries and saw, in Ayumi's broken English, the news that Lisa had gone missing, been found mugged and had been in hospital with severe brain injuries for several weeks. She died a few days ago.

I never met Lisa. I'll never meet Ayumi. The international affair couple seem to have broken up and gone their separate ways. Someone is still advertising stocks in some vague profit scheme.

It occurs to me that we touch each other's lives in brief and distant ways, often softly colliding without noticing or brushing past against shared moments, never knowing what meetings or people will be the important firsts, lasts or forevers until later, if at all. Perhaps if we paid more attention we'd know how much they affect both the people we meet everyday and those who simply, briefly skirt the edges. Perhaps we'd take a moment to realise that, even a little distance off, they can matter.

I was determined to go for some artistic shots while I was up in Scotland - not just the obvious touristy snaps. It was a cold, wet, freezing day but I struggled up some slippery banking to get a close-up and longer-exposure shot of this swollen stream. Took a couple of attempts, but eventually I got the effect I wanted...


I was VERY lucky with this shot. This stag deemed to virtually pose for me in front of the car (in the pouring rain, no less). 15mins later my camera card malfunctioned and appeared to wipe off all the shots from that day. Grrrrrr. However I managed to download some recovery software and lo and behold I got the shot back (along with some others I thought lost...)


Glenfinnan Church is a small, but beautiful building - still used for services - and in 2007 Highlander WorldWide will be actively trying to help with its essential repairs restoration. The roof and heating are the first orders of the day. Hiding from the rain, Nancye and Carmel practise their subtle marketing techniques for raising cash...


Finally, for now, a stunning view of Ben and Glen Nevis that Sue Viney and I caught on the way back to England. With its fantastic views, lovely people, a New Year's Eve without much light thanks to a power cut (but with ideal atmospheric candle-light), the enigmatic Father Roddy and more than a few good bevvies and songs, this was a great way to start 2007.

Thursday December 28th:
I'm up for breakfast, which for anyone who knows me, is a major feat... especially when the sun has not yet risen. Frankly if the big ball of light at the centre of the universe can't be bothered, why should my heavenly body, either? The early sleep has made me bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 7:00am. That's great if you're a squirrel, but Mosbys are less cute under such conditions. Yes, this is deepest (and currently darkest) Scotland and as I tuck into some corn flakes and toast, it's only just starting to get light outside. As it was already getting dark when we arrived yesterday, it's my first chance to see the landscape near the hotel. Through the damp weather and clouds it's possible to see the nearby hills, cloaked in mist. It's very picturesque, so the camera is quickly produced. This is a country that doesn't skimp on the scenery.

With Carmel and Nancye not due until various times after lunch, today is really a 'make plans' kind of day. The Australian contingent will be with us soon enough (probably) so Sue and I take a drive around the local area, not going too far, but allowing Sue to show me some of the nearer places she wants to show the others in the coming days. Within in a few minutes we're within about thirty foot of a pair of deer and there's quite the feeling of excitement. Urban boy that I am, I feel like I'm in the wild, depsite the fact I'm a few feet from the road. Later there's more sedate wildlife when we stop to photograph some completely unimpressed cows (yes, probably peach-flavoured if you're reading this, Shaleah). There's also an impressive view of the Glenfinnan monument and the local church, both of which we'll be returning to later.

We're back in plenty of time to the hotel, but misjudge Carmel's arrival. I'm standing outside the hotel and halfway across the road when I see her and her son Calum walkign up form the train station (about five minutes walk away). For what it's worth, I'm later told they see my puzzled reaction from a distance and just think I'm a drunk Scot standing in the middle of the road. I help get their luggage to the rooms and we sit down in the bar where we talk to owners Keiran and Ina. With a few hours to go until Nancye arrives we head down the road to the edges of Fort William (about 20 minutes drive) where Carmel and Calum buy some clothes to be going on with. There's no sign of their luggage arriving today and we can only cross our fingers it will arrive soon. Cpats and wooly jumpers are on sale at very reasonable prices and I make a mental note to spend some £ before I leave next week.

Nancye arrives, tired and flustered but ever optimistic, heavy suitcase traling behind her at around 5:00pm. It's already dark and so we all decide not to do anything too dramatic. We eat in the bar again...Keiran's award-winning food proving to fill us all up. Then it's off to bed with Veronica again, after I download the pix I've taken so far to my laptop. Tomorrow is another day... Friday if my memory isn't totally frazzled.