Up on the top field at roughly the same time as yesterday and the contrast was almost unbelievable: clear and calm, so mild there were even little groups of hovering bugs taking the air....and normal service had definitely been resumed for the sheep.
Braved Storm Gerrit at lunchtime today......waterproofs over two layers of trousers and sweaters, woolly hat, hood tied over it, proper bad weather waterproof mittens, wellies. Up to circle the top field, sloshing and yomping through mud and floods, battered on one side as we headed over the top, buffeted along from the back as we went around the bottom of the field, the wind roaring through the two mature trees that sit there, battered on the other side as we turned back. Then straight into it on the bottom field, the wind spitting hail and sleet at us until we gained the relative shelter of the trees around the house. And all the while the dogs running round like they always do, apparently completely unconcerned by the apocalyptic conditions, sniffing at everything, burrowing into the grass looking for a tasty little furry creature. They are nothing if not phlegmatic.
I saw what looked initially like a little brown mouse running ahead of me along the path but was actually a wren, a low-flying wren, obviously aware that trying to fly too high would end in disaster.Apart from that it was the sheep, huddled together in a neighbouring field, standing stock still with their backs to the prevailing wind. It has to be pretty bad for the sheep to stop eating.
And could it have been more different yesterday? Hardly. We`d had snow on the evening of Christmas Day - yay, a white Christmas! - and Boxing Day dawned white and icy, but completely still. Dog number one and I set off about two o`clock to do a seven mile road circuit (walking in the woods on the snow would have been too much like had work) stepping out briskly to keep warm, gulping big lungfuls of the frosty air, vanquishing any lingering lethargy resulting from a Christmas Day spent eating (though not over-eating of course 😉) and binge-watching Dr. Who.
One car, one tractor but essentially no-one else about. The sun was going down behind the hills as, at roughly the half way point, we headed towards the local wind farm.
"Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone". Couldn`t have put it better this morning (thank you Ms Rossetti) even though it`s not yet midwinter, nor has today been bleak. Quite the reverse. It has been gloriously bright and sunny. No moaning frosty wind either though by lunchtime a chippy little breeze had sprung up. It nipped and snapped at noses and ears as we set off up the road encouraging us to step up the pace.
Once in the woods the woolly hat could come off and the only sound was the very satisfying crunch across the frozen snow, just softened enough not to be treacherously slippy but cold enough to avoid the shock of it tumbling down the back of your neck when brushing past a tree.
The light was the thing today though - beautiful, magical; best to simply stand and stare every now and again.
When, at midday, the clouds cleared and the sun emerged in a blue sky we set off, hoping the sleety showers that had blown across all morning would hold off long enough for us not to get drenched.
Long shadows with the sun picking out patches of frozen rain that had settled on the grass: it was really cold and we didn`t hang around.
The woods were squelchy underfoot, the path deviating a little at one point where a half-fallen tree we normally ducked under had slipped further down, blocking the path,
such that when you finally emerge above the trainline the views almost take you by surprise.
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Not everything is dying back at this time of year and on an overcast November day like today the lichen and moss (and yet again, as every year, will have to look up the difference) were positively glowing. Lichen decorating a tree trunk or draped over branches in artsy arrangements,
A birthday walk on a calm, dry, mild afternoon, not at all what they forecast but welcome nonetheless. Wheelie bins blown over on the road and far fewer leaves on the trees than the last time we were round the woods so at some point there`s been a bit of a hooley but somehow didn`t notice. Today was all muted colours and autumn scents, the light already beginning to fade though it wasn`t so late.
Portsoy to Buckie along the Aberdeenshire/Moray Coast is known as the Six Harbours Walk. Every year a charity walk along the route is organised by a local Rotary club ( https://www.sixharbourwalk.com )
but it`s a simple enough route to follow - as long as you keep the sea on the same side the whole way. 😉
We set off on a cold, brilliant morning and stepped out briskly to try and warm up, Couldn`t have picked a better day for it - clear vistas all round.
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Carpe diem as they say so we were out there just after nine under the clearest of clear ice blue skies, the white frost on the grass crunching satisfactorily underfoot. The sun, though still quite low in the sky, was beginning to melt the ice on the road and the cold nipped at the nose and ears despite there not being the whisper of any wind. It truly was the most glorious of autumn mornings, the mist suspended over the ground in places or beginning to swirl and dissipate as the sun found it.
Stopped probably too often to take pictures but it`s impossible to do it justice really - at least it is with my camera. The contrast in colours was irresistible though
and the almost mystical light.
It was the kind of morning, empty of people and especially with only the one dog at my heels (the one that doesn`t need to be on a lead because she always comes back the minute she`s called 😉) that demanded a longer walk.
So, with the mist still ambushing us round corners where the sun hadn`t quite penetrated,
