A Gneiss View
It was a bright day in early March, the sun was shining and a substantial fall of fresh snow lay pristine under an arching blue sky. I stepped off the train at Lairg, midway along the branch line that winds its way from Inverness to Wick in the far north of Scotland and wondered whether the postbus would be in the station car park or somewhere between where I stood and Lochinver, lodged up to its headlights in snow.
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