It’s generally grey and cold here, and very wet, but the sun does struggle through once in a while. We were coming back from Miss Dog’s forest (where she is walked more days than not) yesterday when the clouds broke as we came over the brow of the hill towards home, producing one of the truly beautiful moments of the northern year. The barley is up to full height, but the awns still slender and light, and bright green. Under dappled sun and a light wind, the whole flank of Delgaty hill seemed to shiver like the glistening silky pelt of a giant, green, running animal, with spots of light travelling swiftly across it. This lovely effect continues for a few weeks till the grain gets too heavy. Another barley moment: a hare must’ve sat up to take a look at us the other day, from the safety of the field, but all I could see were the twin ears popping up through the silky rustling surface like handlebars.