My moment of magic There are so many moments; should I tell of the few minutes that a buzzard and I looked at each other from about 5 feet apart (due to the path being higher on the hill than the tree); or of suddenly hearing choughs high above me on Islay alerting me to their fantastic aerobatics above me? There are so many but I think my quiet communing with puffins was really special. I had taken a short boat trip to the Isle of Staffa and, instead of going into the caves with fellow passengers who had a tape of Mendelssohn playing continuously, I walked up to the top and sat on the grass at the edge of the cliffs. As I sat there quietly with my legs stretched out, puffins who were nesting in the cliffs came up and sauntered about being very busy doing nothing. Several waddled over my ankles accepting me as part of the scenery as I sat there accepting their trust and wondering what they were saying to each other.