|Mist melts off|
When we set off the mist was so thick we could have been anywhere. Only the rumble of the M74 gave a clue to the fact we weren't alone in the middle of no where.
We set off - anti-clockwise in case you're interested - at our usual brisk march and began our business of setting the world to rights.
Before long a man came out of the murk towards us.
We didn't pay much attention until he hailed us.
"Excuse me ladies, can I give you a leaflet?" He reached inside his bag.
I assumed we were going to get something about the park - or maybe its flora and fauna, but no.
"It's about abortions."
We were, rather uncharacteristically, lost for words.
After all, for various reasons neither of us is likely to trouble the pee-on-a-stick aisle of our local pharmacy again.
If you set out to spread the word - however wrong-headed (IMHO) that might be - surely you don't pick somewhere almost deserted and with hugely impaired visibility.
And even if you thought you had approached almost the entire female child-bearing population of Lanarkshire, this isn't logically where you'd go to get the stragglers.
So, after a moment, we looked at each other and said: "No thanks."
"But, there are pictures here that the doctors don't want you to see..." he pleaded to our departing backs.
The encounter left us shaking our bemused heads and asking questions.
- Does he regularly canvas the walkers and runners of Strathclyde Park?
- Does he ever get anyone to listen to him?
- Does that kind of approach - particularly on this subject - ever, ever change anyone's opinion?
- Did he particularly want to speak to us, or would anyone do?