The weather was harsh. Frequent heavy showers of hail and sleet were sweeping across the West Highlands on a strong north-westerly wind, leaving everything feeling exceedingly wet and cold. Algy took cover in a sheltered, mossy spot, well protected by the broken stems of last year’s bracken. As he tucked his head down out of the icy wind, Algy marvelled at the range of shapes and colours in the miniature environment in front of his beak, and was delighted to find tiny, glistening drops of water on delicate webs which spiders had woven between the mosses.

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