Four billy goats with a tale to tell

Coignafearn, Highlands There is something about wild goats that appeals to me - perhaps their look of superiority?

Standing on the side of the burn, I watched the water flow past my feet, gurgling and murmuring as it continued on its way to the river Findhorn below. After the cold spring, the spring and early summer plants were all flowering together. The yellow carpets of bird's foot-trefoil, or "eggs and bacon" as I prefer to call it, dominated the scene. On the drier areas were small groups of mountain pansies whose flowers varied from red to intense violet.

The butterworts in the splash zone of the burn were such an outstanding purple that their tiny flowers looked much larger than they actually were. Lady's smock plants - also known as cuckooflowers, because they bloom when the first cuckoo begins calling - stood out above the others. Their slender stems topped with tiny pale lilac flower heads looked as if they were just waiting for an orange tip butterfly to lay its tiny orange eggs on them.