Locals say that time runs a little differently on the Scottish Island of Islay - I tend to agree. We inexplicably found ourselves with an hour to kill before our tasting tour at the Bruichladdich Whisky Distillery.
With little to do in the local area, we resorted to walking the shoreline, throwing stones into the sea like a couple of bored kids.
Wandering back into the distillery courtyard - I saw the open gate in the morning sun - picked up my camera - took the picture. The moment felt 'right'.
Looking at the photograph now I am reminded of those interminable stretches of time I spent as a kid in the summer holidays. An hour spent sitting in a tree or waiting for the children's television programmes to start. A kind of sublime boredom that I rarely experience now.
Maybe I need to channel a bit more of that.