Monday 31 May 2010

Monday 31.05.2010

Last day of May and it felt just right this morning as dog and I trotted round `our` woods: warm and still,the trilling of larks high up in a bright blue sky and the smell of new mown grass.
Much as I enjoyed our trek into the big bad mountains on Friday I wouldn`t want to look out on that austerity from my window.
It`s definitely a good thing to be reminded how puny and insignificant you are - but not every day. Anyway, there aren`t enough trees.

Saturday 29 May 2010

Saturday 29.05.2010

I have inadvertently bagged my first Munro. Not, I hasten to add, that there was anything reckless about our foray into the Cairngorms yesterday: all the proper kit and provisions were packed,including the essential scroggin. But we had no overriding aim, only a day at our disposal to do with as the weather permitted.
An overnight drive,some restorative bacon butties and we began the long trudge in at about 4 in the morning.



Trekking with others in serious terrain is quite different to solitary jaunts in fields and forests:the permutations of the group change constantly, conversations (and moods) ebb and flow, and all the time the awe-inspiring scenery bears down making you stop and stare at regular breath-gathering intervals.
From wide riverside path, to a narrower track leading steadily upwards, we arrived after about four hours, at a hut almost under the crags and snow covered tops, brewed up some tea, cooked sausages (which always taste better outdoors) and tried to decide where to go from there.
Much poring over maps and eyeing of the weather (which apart from a couple of sleety showers kept dry if cold - a pretty perfect combination for a days walking) and we continued over a small pass, gazing in delight at the snow rimmed loch and surrounding mountains that were revealed on the other side.



Agreeing at that point that Ben Macdui was not going to be a sensible option but loth to return the way we`d come, and with plenty of time to spare, we traced a route that would take us back a different way, taking in a high peak if the weather held.
It did and we negotiated the snowy,boulder strewn slopes of Derry Cairngorm, arriving at the top to be rewarded with magnificent views on every side (and some very welcome chocolate.)




It always take longer than you think to get back and even dog, who was clearly aware we were on an `expotition` and scurried everywhere looking (in vain) for the North Pole, was beginning to tire, but after a couple more breaks and detours we made it back to the car park we`d left about 11 hours earlier.
It wasn`t until we got home I realised that Derry Cairngorm* is indeed a Munro,at 3789 feet exactly the same height as Lochnagar.
I don`t feel inspired to become a committed Munro-bagger - and why do we `bag` them rather than simply walk up them? - but it gave the trip an added filip somehow.

*http://www.munromagic.com/MountainInfo.cfm/20

Thursday 20 May 2010

Thursday 20.05.2010

Dog and I set off at quarter to nine this evening, plenty of daylight left, a refreshing breeze after another warm day and the evening chorus well under way. Wish I was better at picking out individual songs and calls but recognised lark, chaffinch and blackbird. Rabbits, hares and deer scampering all over the place, giving dog a run for her money.
Young bullocks lumbered along the fenceline of an adjacent field, eyeing us with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity until, having decided with much snorting and head shaking that we weren`t worth bothering with,they kicked up their heels and disappeared in the opposite direction. Their exuberance when they first get put out onto the new grass is always infectious.

Got out of work earlier than expected this afternoon so having stopped at the garage for fuel, treated myself to a massive choc ice, parked under a tree in a handy layby, wound down the car windows to let in the fresh air and finished the last twenty pages of my book.* A very good way to end a hot working day in a stuffy building.

*Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See
A novel about women`s lives in 19th century rural China.

Wednesday 19 May 2010

Wednesday 19.05.2010


A full on late spring day, warm with a balmy breeze at the top of Bennachie, blossom strewn like confetti along the paths in the woods,wild flowers and a cuckoo.
Might have been my last Walking-Quite-Fast-In-The-Middle-Of-The-Day excursion for a few weeks though. One of the most fantastic things about living here are the gloriously long summer days. Walking at dawn or dusk tends to be more comfortable than toiling in the midday sun and usually more interesting.
That said we`ve waited a long time for some real warmth so I`m not complaining.

Saturday 15 May 2010

Saturday 15.05.2010


Today, a stunning May day, all buds, birds, blossom and general spring time bustle, dog and I walked the perimeter of the woods and I stress the word walked.
Sometimes, on a good walking day, blue sky, sunshine, fresh breeze etc etc, I get the urge to break into a gentle trot. It happened on Thursday: an unexpected holiday, a perfect day and there I was, jogging. Almost instantly I remembered why I don`t like jogging, resumed walking and mused on why anyone would actually choose to run unless they were
a) in a race
b) late for the train
c) exiting, pursued by bear
Serendipitously, when I got home, I read a quote from the artist David Hockney:
"I was sitting on a bench..watching the rabbits and the magpies. I lit a cigarette and three great big girls go jogging by, see me smoking and wag their fingers at me. They think they`re very healthy - they`re totally obsessed with their own bodies and never saw the rabbits or magpies. They think they`re healthy but I think I`m healthier."
Quite. As soon as I start `jogging` I`m concentrating on me, my body, my legs, my ankles, my breathing. Self-centred and frankly boring.
When I`m walking I`m concentrating on what`s going on around me, which is invariably more interesting and certainly healthier for my spirit.
So, no more jogging..........unless I happen to see a bear in the distance.

Sunday 9 May 2010

Sunday 09.05.2010

Cold, cold, cold with `wintry showers` forecast and yet the sun has real warmth in it. Good walking weather while it stays dry, like the backdrop to a Persil ad, a child`s painting, all bright primary colours done in poster paints: fresh green grass, azure sky and cheerful white clouds, bright yellow dandelions, splashes of golden gorse and the creamy white blobs of sheep dotted across the fields.
Back in the garden indulged in a bit of `gardening`(i.e. damage limitation - lots of secateur action)but mostly watched the dozens of bees and hoverflies swarming over the fruit bushes and dreamt of dark, luscious blackcurrant jam.

Tuesday 4 May 2010

04.05.2010 (fourteen minutes in)


Driving home from work the last couple of nights it`s been noticeable how light the sky is getting. Can still see the stars (and Venus hanging very brightly on the western horizon just now) but in a month or so will virtually lose sight of them for a while.
Walking this morning and it was back to layers of clothes: two t-shirts, a sweatshirt and a thick woollen sweater,the hail battering down and a bitterly cold wind. Half an hour later,the sun was blazing down,the sweater was off and it was like a different country.
In the garden there were large bees busily working the blackcurrant bushes and sounds of hammering - progress on the shed front (as in every woman should - and shall - have one).
My book tells me that Socrates "felt passionately that the written word posed serious risks to society"
At least as interesting, it also tells me that the great philosopher was a pupil of Diotima, a woman philosopher who used dialogue to teach her students. Who`d have thought it?