Here's an extract from the pamphlet and a lino cut.
I came across a tumbled square of stones sitting in the middle of a patch of grass that looked almost good enough to eat. This was a shieling where people had once come to stay through the summer months. They came up with their animals, cattle mostly, in search of better grazing. That was in the days before the uplands lost most of their population. Those that stayed moved into the houses that stand at regular intervals along the road, just near enough to be neighbours, and turned to sheep that were left to wander for most of the year. The old places were abandoned and the hills became places where no-one stayed, even through the long days of summer. A whooit, whooit of a curlew filled the air and the only voice was my own, calling my dog. A ewe huffed at me, annoyed at my intrusion, with dogs no less, into her heft. This was her ground and I was not welcome.
