The mountains skipped like rams, the hills like lambs of the flock. What was it, O sea, that thou shouldst flee, O Jordan, that thou shouldst turn backward? Ye mountains, that you skipped like rams, ye hills like lambs of the flock? On Saturday my husband and I went for a long walk in the Pentland Hills. Our map was inadequate, but we managed not to stay lost, thanks in part to the sheep. There are a lot of sheep on the Pentland Hills. They are in Scotland, after all. Being a stone’s throw from Edinburgh is not excuse enough...