People, happy to think of themselves ‘conservationists’, have wrought death to infant trees to resurrect the bog, a Bruegel-like ‘Massacre of the Innocents’ in the snow.  The blood- ochre roots of pulled up saplings orange against white. Behind the arbitrary boundary fence- a liminal between life and death- the plantation of the saved stand silent witness to the slaughtered metres away.

Carabus violaceus on cut peatbank, Lewis.

Can you find the cat, dog and smiley face?