I stopped for lunch at the ruin just beyond Am Mam. When it first came into sight, there was another couple of walkers just leaving it. I thought about pressing on to catch them up, but what was the point? I would still need my lunch, and they would want to keep going. So I sat by myself at the ruin, wondering what it must have been like for the folk who had once lived here. The dam had not been built, of course, so there was no loch back then; just a river running through the valley, and this a lonely croft perched a little way up the hillside half way up the glen. What a spectacular, if remote, place to stay, scratching a living from the soil and maybe raising a few cattle on what little grazing was available. Would there have been trout in the river? And maybe the occasional deer or hare from the hills? How different their existence must have been from mine; and yet, although separated in time by maybe two hundred years, we were united by the place. I sat where they may have sat, trod where they must have trod. And we had both taken meals in this place - they very many, but I just the one.
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