I was driving along a single-track road somewhere south of Obaig when suddenly a little gosling ran out in front of the Caberfeidhmobile. I could see two adult geese some yards away; they were calling and the little gosling was cheeping away, trying to get to them. I stopped and got out of the vehicle to help but the wee beastie had legged it into the undergrowth. I heard more cheeping from the ditch by the road, and a host of little goslings climbed out, crossed the road and hid in the tussocks and rushes. There was still some solitary cheeping coming from the ditch; a gosling, smaller than the rest, was stuck mongst a tangle of brambles and dead bracken. I stretched out to get him but nearly tipped into the ditch. I had to lie full length in the undergrowth to get hold of him. I carried him across the road, and put him down on the other side of the fence, where he gathered himself together and ran off, cheeping, to find his siblings. They all scurried off down to their calling parents, and it is to be presumed, lived happily ever after. How did Mother Nature repay me for my altruistic deed? I got a tick attached to my chest, just found it this morning. I hate ticks. They are a very good reason for burning moors, but broods of young goslings are a very good reason not to.
- Rain happening to someone else, somewhere south of Obaig.