Today’s guest picture comes from our son Tony in East Wemyss. Instead of yet another brilliant East Wemyss dawn, today’s picture shows one of Tony’s best friends chilling out.
After the heavy rain of yesterday, we woke to a calmer and drier day today, and I was able to walk up to the Market Place market without any call for an umbrella. After purchasing the necessities of life – honey, fish and beer – at the market, I walked along the High Street and over the town bridge. The scene was a lot more peaceful than when I was there yesterday.
I picked up some supplies, milk and carrots, from our corner shop, settled my account there, and walked home in mellow sunshine.
I got back in time for coffee and a squashed fly biscuit or two with Mrs Tootlepedal and Margaret.
When Margaret left, we walked round the garden. Yesterday’s heavy rain seemed to have had more of a refreshing effect than a damaging one. There was no shortage of cheerful flowers to photograph, and I photographed a lot of them.
. . . in addition to the flowers, there were windblown walnuts and apples to pick up.
We are right on the northern limit for walnuts and only a couple of the shells contained eatable kernels, but the apples are very tasty this year.
The flowers in the vegetable garden were looking good too . . .
. . . and as I walked back to the house, I passed tiny snowberry flowers with big white berries beside them, very tempting Charles Ross apples which are not ripe yet, and the flourishing nerines.
I had given my sore knee some tough love with vigorous composting, staggering around the woods looking for acorns and a twenty mile cycle ride, and fortunately it had reacted by becoming a lot better. I considered a longer cycle ride or a good walk today to give it a full health check. The forecast suggested strong winds and occasional showers, so a walk seemed the best option. Needless to say it started to rain very heavily as soon as I went to put my walking socks on, but it soon stopped and I set off to walk round the back of Whita Hill.
I started along the Murtholm as the clouds cleared, crossed Skippers Bridge and walked along the road beside the river in lovely sunshine, and then came to the bird hide where I met a rainbow . . .
. . . and shortly afterwards, I met the rain. With great cunning, I had brought my umbrella with me, so I laughed at the weather gods.
Once again, I took an excessive number of pictures on my walk. It is all too easy to get carried away with so much scenery on all sides. As a result, multi panels have been called into action again to squeeze far too many pictures into this post, but the wonderful peltigera canina lichen fruiting bodies which I saw on the wall beside the road to Broomholm deserve a place of their own (even though it is not a very good picture).
The Tarras looked quite peaceful when I came down to the river near Rashiel.
On my way from the bird hide to Cronksbank, I passed some plants of interest ( to me at least).
Annoyingly, when I got to Cronksbank in the light rain, I could see the sun shining on Whita Hill on the opposite side of the Tarras valley. Later in the walk, when I got to Whita in some more rain, I could see the sun shining on Cronksbank. It was that sort of day.
The weather got better as I went along as you can see from this set of pictures, the top two taken on one side of the river and the bottom two on the other.
I wisely took the little footbridge over the Tarras Water at Perterburn, as the ford when I looked at it from the far side, seemed as though it might have required armbands and a snorkel for me to get across it.
I walked up the track from the ford past these impressive pine trees . . .
. . . and then strolled along the track from Middlemoss to the Copshaw road with great pleasure as the sun was at its best . . .
. . . and I could enjoy the cloudscapes.
When I got to the road, a flicker of movement in the long grass on the moor caught my attention. There were goats to the right of the road, and then I saw some to the left as well.
Leaving the goats to graze, I headed up the road across the moor, dry to start with. . .
. . . but caught in some heavy rain before I got to the White Yett.
I could see some sun breaking through clouds ahead of me, but it was still raining when I passed the MacDiarmid Memorial . . .
. . . and things didn’t improve as I started to go down the hill back to Langholm. The rays of sunshine looked no closer than they were before.
I didn’t despair though, and by the time that I got to the pine trees at Hillhead, only a few hundred yards down the road . . .
. . . it was a different day.
And it got better, the further downhill I went. It was a lovely early autumn evening when I got to Langholm.
It had been a very good walk with plenty of variety to keep me entertained. My knees had enjoyed the outing too, making light of ten miles and 1000 feet of ascent in almost exactly three hours of walking (with a quarter of an hour added on for taking too many pictures).
Mrs Tootlepedal had had a useful afternoon in the garden, so we were both pretty content with our day.
I had a look out of the window after I had had a cup of tea and several squashed fly biscuits, and saw a siskin and a greenfinch sharing the feeder.
We had fish which I had purchased at the morning market for our evening meal, and that rounded off the activities for the day.
The (just) flying bird of the day is a siskin, caught a fraction of a second before it landed.