Tuesday 25.07.2023

 Weather nothing if not confusing. Bit of everything: sun, rain, thunder, hail, low grey cloud, bitterly cold wind and in between snatches of Absolutely Perfect.

It was one of those moments late yesterday afternoon.  Clouds had cleared, wind had dropped to a gentle cool breeze, keeping the warm July sun from ever getting too hot for a cobweb-banishing stride around the woods. Plenty of ripe wild raspberries, the rowan berries with just the suggestion of the glorious colour they will be in a few weeks, the beech trees at their most startling green, the fields full of gently swaying barley, cows and sheep grazing quietly having settled down from their Springtime high-jinks and frolicking. 

These are the images to remember when the snow is six foot deep and the wind blowing an easterly hooley. We earn our summers!

3.07.2023

 So June seems to have vanished into a whirl of working and gallivanting up and down, what with house/dog sitting, gigantic cat puppetry (watching not doing), an idyllic evening spent on a Scottish beach not to mention the first festival of the year, 

Well, Glastonbury to be precise.

It was hot, it is massive, walked miles, worked three long dusty shifts on the gates (https://festivals.oxfam.org.uk/volunteering/stewarding) and would recommend the experience to everyone. Sore feet and potential dehydration notwithstanding it is truly a unique experience with a chance to jump into a mad melee (Elton John), enjoy a mellow Sunday teatime nostalgia trip (Cat/Yusuf Stevens), find an unexpected musical treat (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzrAzMXBmt4), to name just one, go and listen to talks and discussions. or just find a quiet corner (there are a lot) and watch the world go by.

And in attempt to lay the still oft-repeated complaint to rest, the litter that is left (and every year it is less and less) is cleared up by volunteers. Just saying. 🙄

Before all that there was a pleasant sojourn in Lennoxtown, chicken-wrangling and dog-walking in the woods at the foot of the Campsies, where the May blossom looked like snow, the wild flowers flourished and Glasgow seemed further away than it actually is.

One day took a walk along the old railway track to Kirkintilloch which kept us out of the heat and enjoying the shade,

more flora,

the always slightly sinister, shade-loving organisms that are neither plant nor animal but nevertheless very beautiful

and ....of course.... the bridges. 

Do like a bridge.

After that the Cat, 

 (a very hot and sweaty cat it must be said), then some respite on a 

beach as the sun went down........with good company and some very good whisky as it happens (long story).

June was alright all things considered.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, breezy summer weather, sun showers, good walking before, in a couple of days, back to Lennoxtown to make myself useful again.

 Reward in heaven and all that. 🤣🤣

Friday 19.05.2023

 Carried along on a wave of essence-of-coconut this morning as the sun shone down on the gorse which has been at its very best for the last week, while waiting in the wings is its paler, quieter cousin the yellow broom. And everything just so green, that new optimistic green, reassuring that, for the time being at least, the seasons keep on coming round. 

So many days recently that have been perfect for walking, warm sun, cool breeze, even the cloudy but humid ones with the occasional face-freshening sprays of warm rain: it`s the second best season after autumn. 😉 And of course, on this side of the country - no midges. (Just watched a film, or more accurately six one hour episodes, of someone walking the Cape Wrath Trail in August and can`t see the pleasure of doing  it when there`s clouds of them getting into everything........they are an absolute scourge).

Wednesday 10.05.2023

 "Relax into the uncertainty" somebody once said and it`s probably the only way to enjoy the days at the moment. One minute the sun, which has real warmth in it, next a monsoon, floods, angry skies and thunder. Turn around and there`s the sun again, the floods evaporate as quickly as they arrived and momentarily there are clouds of steam rising from field and road.

There`s more Spring arrivals: today both housemartins and swallows have arrived, busily preening and shaking out their feathers as they sway gently backwards and forwards on the telephone wires, maybe checking out what if anything has changed since last year (not much).

The beasts are out now on the field adjacent to the woods - looking as always slightly bemused by all the space though they`ll soon get used to it. And if it gets too hot there`s nearly always a handy hoof spa in the corner of the field.

It sometimes felt almost sub-tropical in the deepest part of the woods, the warm air full of moisture and heavy with evocative scents. Butterflies and bees fluttered and buzzed around and the distinctive clumps of wood sorrel were a cheery sight. All in all a sap-stirring day - and the trees are definitely beginning to respond.

Wednesday 3.5.2023

Work, gigs, more work - and then a few days away, of which more in a minute.

Meanwhile Spring is trying very hard to take over - the larks are deafening, the gorse is at the peak of its golden glory and when the sun warms the air that coconut scent is intoxicating, there are lambs.  And yet, and yet. It is still unseasonably cold  - the fire is still being lit in the mornings and evenings though it is the merry month of May - and there is still no sign of the lapwings, the oyster catchers and the curlews which not that long ago were the real harbingers of Spring on the hill.  

Still, when we set off this morning in an attempt to get warm without lighting the fire, the bracing easterly kept us marching briskly along. The grass is growing, the first mowers have even been in action, there are catkins and buds and  bright green larch needles are emerging through the grey lichen. 

We took the longer route home which is becoming a regular part of our expeditions even though the woods it takes us by are still displaying the destruction of storm Arwen from all those months ago.

 Getting back into regular walks with the dogs has been a delight but last month there were six days away with different companions only one of which was canine. So another long distance walk completed, this time The Great Glen Way, not as challenging as last year`s West Highland Way but pretty demanding neverthless.

I completely failed to marshall pictures of the WHW or even write about it last year. I am currently trying to make up for that with this year`s expedition but there is such a thing as too many photos and too little energy (on my part) to keep an ongoing diary as we walked. I`m thinking of opening a new blog to try and record these events especially as I have a sneaking feeling that they are becoming slightly addictive: the pains and joys, the ups and downs - literally and metaphorically - the occasional injury (🙄) and the huge satisfaction of completing the journey even if you have to hobble into the final pub - it takes some beating.

For the time being here are a few random pictures while I go and continue trying to work the whole into some sort of cohesive account.

r two

Wednesday 15.03.2023

 The weather app promised a day of blazing sunshine but fortunately not: the "busy old fool" only shows up the grubby windows and layers of dust after all.

Instead we had something a bit subtler: the sun a pale, more modest, version of itself trying to peep through the blues and greys and white, plenty of still-lying snow and ice, bare branches, winter silhouettes, and snowy garlands. Winter is hanging in there for a bit longer.

Monday 13.03.2023

 Weather. It`s been all about the weather and we`ve had just about everything possible in the last few days, apart from a full on heat wave. Never quite sure what`re going to wake up to. First thing this morning it was pure "dreich" - if that wonderful onomatopoeic word hadn`t existed it would have been necessary to make it up. To summarise: grey cloud, slushy underfoot in the remaining snow, rain/sleet/snow and a  bitter northerly wind. occasionally the cloud descends and we are in a whiteout, impossible to tell where the cloud ends and the snow begins.

But! We have had mild weather, we have had winter wonderlands, we have had storms that have brought down yet more trees, we have had still, icy evenings, the occasional blizzard and drifting snow catkins on bare branches, daffodils buried in snow but ready to flower the minute the sun comes out while the gorse just doesn`t care and flowers anyway. Snowy dogs, red sunsets...........

.....while yesterday lunchtime the phrase "blue-remembered hills" sprang to mind, though not perhaps as Housman* envisaged them, speaking, as he was, of hills several hundred miles south of here where

 the still air was glacial and the landscape had an icy blue tinge to it under clouds of pale grey and white. 

*A Shropshire Lad

Into my heart an air that kills 

  From yon far country blows: 

What are those blue remembered hills, 

  What spires, what farms are those? 

 

That is the land of lost content,

  I see it shining plain, 

The happy highways where I went 

  And cannot come again.

A. E. Housman  1859-1936