By early August the May cut peat slabs have dried enough to be gathered up into little pyramid stacks, rudhan. I surprised a little wren walking down the rathad an isein, the bird’s road, which in turn startled me- it was paler and less peaty coloured than the wren that comes to my (un-boggy) Fife garden. As it popped into the refuge offered by the peats, a temporary man-made place of shelter on the summer moor, rudhan became sheiling. 
Robin A Crawford 