Not a breath of wind stirred the air, and the only ripples were of my own making. I was immersed in a silence so deep that I could hear the downbeat of a raven’s wings as it flew over Carn Fiaclach, two hundred metres over my head. With quiet indian strokes, I travelled further up the loch towards the narrows, striving to match my pace to my surroundings and pass by without disturbance
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