JOHN MACLEOD: So many sights, scents and sounds of Hebridean past are now long gone but, this summer, the corncrake calls again...

It was late on Sabbath evening and my little dog was pawing the door to go out. I grabbed his lead and out we trotted, into the thin 'white night' typical of Hebridean midsummer, thinned further by waxing, gibbous moon.

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