Mist and Castles in the Highlands

We'd driven up from Fort William before dawn hoping for exactly this — mist rolling low over the water, the castle appearing and disappearing as it thinned.

A single-track road took us further north, sheep wandering across without a care, and not another car for almost an hour.

By afternoon the sun broke through over Glen Shiel, turning the heather a colour I still can't quite name — somewhere between rust and violet.