I remember the first time I feared that Leopold Fumbleguts might be losing his thinking faculties. It was a sunny day in June some years ago and we were sitting on a beach in Devon. Leopold was hushed, having spent considerable time erecting one of those traditional-style deckchairs, his tweed trousers rolled up just above his shins. He was staring out to sea, taking in every little detail his eyes would light upon when he broke the silence with an astonishing statement.
"In my time," he began, "I've had a hand in designing many, many mountain ranges."
I said nothing.
"Does that not impress you?" he asked, turning his gaze to me.
"With respect," I said, "Are you sure?"
He turned back to face the sea. "Silly boy. Of course I'm sure. It's really quite simple... All you do is hold your pen or pencil up to the horizon, close one eye and draw a series of triangles of varying size. Then you start your shading. If you want the peaks to be snow-capped, reach for the chalk."
He sounded utterly convinced. I hadn't the heart to tell him he was bonkers.
IMAGES
Top: Panoramic view approximately half way up Ben More, Isle of Mull, Scotland
Bottom: 360 degree panoramic view from the summit of Ben More, Isle of Mull, Scotland
