You'd think that at six am the wind swept Scottish coastline would be quiet and depopulated . Not a bit of it. This morning we meet a gentleman who has come to repair the doors on the village doocot, a third year student out to photograph the fossilized giant millipede tracks by the salt lake and a small black dog that appears out of nowhere and has boundless levels of energy.
Sophie ignores the doocot man and the student but is completely nonplussed by the small black dog.
She attempts to establish some form of canine communication but the small black dog shows no interest. It rolls on its back, hurtles off, returns, then hurtles away again. In between it charts an anti-clockwise circle around her followed seamlessly by a clockwise one.
Finally small black dog defies gravity and leaps onto a stone wall. There it stands before deciding that it's time to fly off to some place that it calls home. This entire interlude is both brief and frenetic... and conducted in shocked silence. Sophie would love to leap up on the wall too but age and titanium knees make her think better of it.