What vistas awaited us on our journey over high switchback roads, through forests of deciduous lemon and orange - the firth view was endless, to the castle and the sea, high beauty the road saddling hills it rolled smooth with a light clicking sound - we fitted it in the car, the old wheel ready for new tasks, it sits quiet, waiting, a cleaning cloth, then fleeces to skirt and wash, to card, then we will be off on the treadle, watching as she fliesnext poem