It’s a frozen weekend here, and a strange one as I’m home alone with the lads (of course, when I’m with the lads, I’m never alone) and we won’t be able to go out anywhere. And our weekends usually revolve around walks. Regardless of the weather (more or less – we avoid wild, driving rain but that’s about it) we’ll usually be on a coastal walk somewhere.
Just a few photos, as I was mostly taking videos on this walk on Sunday, plus it was so, so cold with the wind chill, my frozen hands had had enough after those videos. But I couldn’t resist sharing these skyscapes.
Indeed, it’s been a minute. Not wanting to sound like a broken record writing, ‘I can’t believe it’s been so long since my last post…’ but, well, I can’t. But it’s been a busy (and good) few months. I’ve started a new freelance gig – very part time, but, like anything new, I’ve spent a lot of time on it and have been really enjoying it. And given that the new gig is in social media (with a focus on Instagram), my brain has been too overloaded with words (and images) to be here too.
But I’ve missed sitting down and writing. Just writing. Not for anyone else, not for a deadline; just for the pleasure of it. So it’s time to get back here.
Do you have certain scenes that you never get tired of photographing? I have a few, the view over Hedderwick Sands (at John Muir Country Park, as in my previous post) being the most obvious, but also every view of Fidra. I started sharing Fidra photos using the tag #TheFidraSeries earlier this year on Instagram, but have many, many more shots – photos I always mean to post but then pause, wondering if people might be bored of the same vista.
But to me this view is never quite the same. The shifting tides, the changing seasons and light – it always feels different. It’s a place that I’ll keep returning to again and again.
I could smell the scorched earth and wood before I saw it. We were walking at John Muir Country Park a few weekends back, on a warm Sunday, and we’d decided to take the reverse route to our usual loop, walking along the side of the woodland that faces onto the salt marshes. I’d paused to take a video of a view through the trees on the edge of the woodland as the sunlight was catching the grasses in the breeze, and as I moved closer I thought, what is that smell? I knew what it was, but why… why could I smell burning?
We had two fundraising walks in August, both for an amazing charity called DMT Dachshund Rescue & Support Group, and this coastal walk was the first of those. For anyone who’s been following this blog for a while, it’s a familiar route, starting at Gullane and heading in the direction of Eyebroughy, and we’d intended to do the whole 9km of the #Wagathon #9KforK9s challenge in this one walk. The light ran away from us though. It’s that funny thing that happens in August when you’re used to darkness falling around 10pm, and your body clock is still in midsummer time, only suddenly the light is fading an hour earlier.
Hello and welcome to Copperline. My name is Fiona Reid and this is my blog about coastal living in Scotland.