Still at midday, wherever and whatever the suns light didn't touch remains coated in sugary frosting, even exposed ice retains it structural integrity. It is a glorious day to walk along the winding paths which follow the contours of the interface of two worlds, the heather covered plain and the tufted grass wetland. These paths, for the most part, are below the ridge and out of the wind which still pierces, even with the tentative young suns rays. A deer breaks it's meagre gorse cover and makes of through the exposed wet grassland. It's weird, deer just can't hold their bottle, despite the deer's sparse hide, we hadn't nor most probably wouldn't have seen it, and we'd have passed by unawares. It gave itself away. Funny buggers.