After he had stumbled slowly across the rocky terrain for a while, Algy found that the ground levelled out and became much more soggy. He had reached the peat bogs. Algy knew better than to try to cross the bogs on foot in winter: that was the way to be sucked down into oblivion forever… The only safe path through the bogs was to follow the burn, as it carved out its own course through the marshy ground, leaving banks of rock and wee beaches of gravel where the peat had long since washed away. It was by no means an easy route to follow, however, so Algy was determined to find a place to store his baubles as soon as he possibly could. Before he set off up the burn, he rested for a while in the sunshine, watching the peaty water trickling its way steadily down to the sea.
Published by The Adventures of Algy
The adventures of a unique and surprisingly fluffy bird in the wild West Highlands of Scotland. View all posts by The Adventures of Algy