Today the rain sweeps across its surface from bMullach/b a' Bhreun-Leiter and the waters are bleak and choppy. There is no path on the loch's banks ? as promised by the map ? so I slosh along the shingle in my soggy boots until after a mile or so I reach a track ... I enter the bhotel/b, and in doing so step through a portal in time and space. Somewhere in the fabric of reality a tear has opened, and I have been drawn through as a moth is drawn through a partially open window. ...
chaidh fear air bmullach/b an taigh. chaidh e gu bmullach/b an t-simileir. dh'?igh e s?os an similear. chuala e guth. bha an guth ag ?igheachd suas an similear! d? bh' ann? mac-talla? no taibhs de dhuine a chaidh a chall ann an stoirm mh?r b.../b
