On a fine day in the West Highlands the view to the north is always the loveliest, as it reveals the depth of colours in the landscape and sea. So Algy moved away from the deep freshwater loch, and with the sun at his back he looked out towards the Hebridean islands. The moorland grasses were positively glowing, putting on their best show of the year, and he thought of a poem by one of his favourite authors, the 19th century Scottish author and Minister, George MacDonald:

          By the roadside, like rocks of golden ore
          That make the western river-beds so bright,
          The briar and the furze are all alight!
          Perhaps the year will be so fair no more,
          But now the fallen, falling leaves are gay,
          And autumn old has shone into a Day!

[Algy is quoting the second verse of George MacDonald’s poem Autumn’s Gold.]

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