The fields of barley are beginning to ripen. They are golden-green and have the most wonderful movement, with the ears growing this way and that. When the wind blows through, the whole field ripples like water.
The John Muir Way goes through a small copse, where I saw these little jewels.On the way home we bumped into this little gang of Hebridean sheep. They were gathered around the base of a dovecot. They barely moved a muscle as we walked past, except to turn their heads, eyes riveted on Tilly!