Plockton Bay at sunrise.

Poem.

 

The gossamer sunlit trails of a calm bay at sunrise.

The moored yachts, motionless, seemingly frozen on these bejewelled, mirrored waters.

The rising sun gleams in pearlescent brilliance.

The silhouetted domed hills of Loch Carron are a

grey and indigo backcloth to this

quicksilver and golden sea.

This is Plockton-

at any time- superb,

at dawn on a summer’s morning,

we have entered the golden gates of heaven!

 

Done