Every so often, after days of sunshine, I feel like I need to rewind to some moody skies and scenes that suggest a cool breeze, which is exactly what I’m doing here with these photos from the end of May and a walk at Gullane Point. When I was first considering how to evolve the content here, I imagined that we’d be visiting more places when our worlds eased open. I expected to be sharing walks from Fife and Perthshire and Northumberland, and maybe a trip up north and and and… But the reality is, as we’ve moved into summer, we’ve been staying close to home. Sure, we’ve had a few day trips and I still intend to share those here, but most of our walks are in East Lothian as it’s been too warm and humid to travel far with the lads, and weekends feel too busy. That’s fundamental: places feel too busy at weekends. And we aren’t doing ‘busy’.
When I first considered sharing these walks here, I held back for months as it felt too personal – which seems silly, I know, as it’s my blog so why shouldn’t the content be personal? But after years of blogging about design, it seemed strange to share these moments from our lives. And now, within a few months, it feels instinctive. Like the most natural thing to do. Even if I’m aware that most people who land on this site, having followed a link from somewhere, are looking for design-related content. Hopefully, in time, that will change.
So, on that note, I wanted to share this walk from Sunday at Yellowcraig.
This has, without a doubt, become one of our favourite walks, even though – and I can’t quite believe this – we only discovered the section around St Baldred’s Cradle a few years ago. We’ve walked at Ravensheugh for years – along Lime Tree Walk, through the woods, and then along this incredible expanse of beach. I’ve taken umpteen sets of photos here, and have another blog post to share from several weeks back when the sky was even more moody and photogenic than it is here. But somehow, up until a few years ago, we’d missed the section of this walk that leads around the headland that is St Baldred’s Cradle.
If you saw my previous post, then this one perhaps needs little introduction. Except that while the previous post was from a solo walk last Friday night, this is from yesterday, after another showery day when we’d hoped to get out in the evening, but then the rain settled in and we accepted that we might not be going anywhere.
It’s a cliché to say, these weeks are flying past… but they really are. We’re racing towards the longest day of the year far too quickly for my liking, and as much as I’m looking forwards to the seasonal shift of cooler days, just… not yet. I want to hang on to every minute of daylight that we have. Every single minute.
There’s no denying the shift in the seasons at the moment. Last week, you could feel the evenings slip away as it seemed to be getting darker day by day. To be honest, I’m ready for autumn; I’m ready for cool weather and bracing beach walks, but I’m never ready to lose evening light. And this year, we’ve appreciated our evenings even more. Lockdown shifted perspective, right? We’ve appreciated just being outdoors, whether keeping it local with walks at the ash lagoons or along the sea front, or those nights of just getting in the car and escaping down the coast.