A few days in a particularly magical part of Scotland,
Bruar Lodge nestling in a deep glen,
Hills rise up two thousand and more feet on either side.
This is the home of Kate and Mike.
Close by the lodge the River Bruar runs wantonly over dazzling stones,
On the ridge of each hill stags bay defiantly, protecting their hinds.
An enchanted place, a full forty minutes, along a track, from a turning off the General Wade's road, the A9 between Perth and Inverness.
A landscape that changes colour constantly as the weather, umber, sienna, ochre viridian and alizarin.
Each day up on the hill stalking and or perhaps casting a fly on the small loch a short walk away. Brose, a highland pony, alongside the stalkers bears deer down the hill.
Each night we all return to the lodge, hot baths, cocktails and a delicious supper over which the triumphs and tribulations of the day are shared and applauded.
We are blessed who stay at Bruar Lodge.