Rogart: 8pm. Sunshine through red campions & blackcurrant bushes with a background of chattering aspens. A cold wind & rain showers again. My eyes are soothed by the green that abounds at the moment. Today, it’s been constantly moving. Catching the light & filled with sparrows…

Rogart: (Between Golspie & Brora). Seals swim. Oystercatchers walk quickly or fly noisily overhead. Running back towards Golspie. Fresh sand studded with rocks & pebbles, strewed with seaweed. I pick my way along until it gets too difficult, then I head onto the coastal path...

Rogart: 9.25am. It's raining, heavily, but it's coming straight down, no wind behind it. (I like to think I can hear things growing). From my run up to the lochan. Not much to see at a distance, but the track on the way up was full of milkwort, bird's foot trefoil & lousewort...

Rogart: 7.16am. Heavy rain shower earlier. (Woken by 2 soggy cats, met a 3rd in the kitchen at breakfast time). Tree branches droop under weight of water. Low cloud hangs in the strath. Not a breath of wind in this green place. Loud birdsong & the first midge bites of the year.

Rogart: It’s been a while. Lucky (15 year old pensioner) roams & lurks. Stuffing her face. Giving me jump scares by baaing loudly from unexpected places. Elsewhere, sparrow nest building control needs to step in. This, on the front of the baler, low down, easily in reach of cats.

Rogart: Breezy & warm. Cloudy skies, but bright. The scent of grass & birch. Birdsong is surround sound. A pair of wood pigeons clatter out of an ash tree, followed a little while after by another pair. Plump grey bodies flying west. The spotted orchids are up, globeflowers too.

Rogart: One of the first jobs in the morning is bottle breakfast for Betty. (Smaller twin whose Ma can only count to 1, despite my best efforts). Betty stays in the park with the rest of the flock. She plays with the lambs. She comes running when she hears the gate latch squeak.

Rogart: Fine rain at bedtime, turned everything blue green silver. Droplets of water haloing & drooping plants in the still light of short nights. (I fall asleep to almost daylight). Morning across the hay park. My wellies stuck with grass pollen. The air smells of elderflowers…

Rogart: Looking to the west across the hay park which is rippling in the wind. The sky is threatening rain. I found the reason why I've only had about 4 eggs in the last 2 days. Every day is a game of hide & seek (dratted birds). In the big ditch, yellow flag iris is flowering.

Rogart: 6.12pm. Sheltering in the shed waiting for a torrential downpour to pass. I could see it coming from the west. The Pensioner eventually joined me & there was a hen laying an egg in the straw bale next to me. The rain was so heavy it was bouncing up off the ground...

Rogart: 9am. 19 degrees already. It's a beautiful day. Behind the ruin, swallows are swooping in & out of the one tiny window hole. Self seeded foxgloves, ivy & honeysuckle (brought home from local walks) climb. The first apples are growing on a small tree I raised from a pip...

Rogart: Solstice eve. A day where sheep sought shade. Now it is grey & breezy. I brought a newly hatched ghost moth inside so she wouldn't be eaten by hens. I watched her unfurl. Recently I have found lots of white wings in the hay park (the males are white & fly in groups)...

Rogart: Solstice dawns grey & breezy, mist is blowing in. It’s not quite what I expected, especially after yesterday’s heat. I’ve caught a cold & that brings on thoughts of days getting shorter. I shouldn’t be thinking of winter. Red & white campion & ragged robin are everywhere.

Rogart: 6.30am. Woken by thunder, lightning flashes through closed eyes & rain bouncing in through the open window. The sheer volume of water coming out of the sky is incredible. It is lying in ever growing puddles which join, submerging grass. The first noisy storm in a while...

Rogart: A walk up the hill. In the Loch of lost pants (long story) water lilies bloom, leaves lifting in waves in the wind. On the track, nests of debris made by this morning’s heavy rain & green larch saplings. Roots under water in the lochan, looking like a tangle of antlers…

Rogart: 1.30pm. The wind is whipping across the hay park. Grasses shimmer in waves, bending & rippling ahead of me. The hoggs scatter & run as I approach. They've known me all of their lives & see me every day, but the wind makes them spooky. Swallows swoop low with extra speed.

Rogart: A meadow pipit’s nest. Hidden in the moss & heather outside the gate…

Rogart: 10am. Blustery. Big cloud shadows move fast along the strath. Small birds blow about. The hay park sorrel is full of goldfinches. Hogweed is busy with insects. Down the croft, many butterflies, today, mainly ringlets, none willing to pose. Cuckoo spit is on everything...

Rogart: The wind keeps blowing. It's beyond getting on my nerves. The constant noise. Willow branches are bent at wrong angles or snapped off entirely. However, because the wind was so noisy it didn't hear me coming, I met a young lapwing up close. (It pretended to be a stone).

Rogart: 7.19am. After the rain. The hay park sparkles & swallows swoop low catching breakfast. Good morning.