Days like this . . . Part two, Am Ploc and Callum

On a rocky outcrop in the middle of the bay is Am Ploc, an open air church. It's a gentle walk across a concrete causeway to reach the promontory which also contains a house that is completely hidden from view unless you approach by boat.

Built into a natural amphitheatre the history of these open air places of worship is just as complicated as much of Scotland's past, and when you mix 'organised' religion, what people really want and land ownership things generally get heated. Much can be found online and this blog post explains things extremely well:



It is a haunting place, there is sadness that it was ever needed at all but a sense of 'something' in the enclosed space which I have often found in places that have been used for worship and ritual. Perhaps some of these beliefs seep into the stones? Well worth a visit.














I eventually tore myself away from Torridon village and drove gently back down the beautiful A896 stopping on the way at pretty much every parking place to wander around and get the binoculars out.





Something I have omited to mention up to now is the number of Golden Eagles I saw - probably because there are no photos (the iPhone is good, but not that good) and a lot of time was spent during this holiday watching the skies. Torridon Glen has its fair share of Eagles but one of the parking spots had additional wildlife - Callum the Red Deer stag. I had heard about him but not really registered exactly where he had based himself. It was only when I turned off the road and had to wait for him to slowly get out of the way that I realised where I was.

Callum is one of those "should they/shouldn't they" wildlife stories. Here is blog link from the brilliant Paul Shorrock who writes lovely posts which generally make me want to get off my bottom and back out onto the hills and tells the history of Callum. The creature I observed for some time looked extremely old, was limping badly on his left front leg (arthritis?) and has absolutely no muscle-tone in his hind quarters. Left to nature this old chap would have died during a particularly cold winter and passed into the food chain for Eagles and other scavengers. Now he seems to spend his days mugging tourists and probably being fed all sorts of rubbish (in addition whatever is supplied by local people). He seemed fairly content as he settled down in the grass next to my van and was either enjoying the view or watching for the next vehicle to arrive.









On her gorgeous "My Shetland" blog Frances Taylor has the quote "You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed" (Antoine de Saint-Exupery). It is why we are very careful at Bag End when we start to feed something. As I no longer blog about gardening nonsense you don't know about the two male pheasant who have moved in, one of whom ocasionally wanders into the house and then stands unperturbed and mildly confused until we push him gently back towards the open door.