We used to walk regularly at North Berwick, and usually along this western stretch of the beach that starts beyond the rocks at West Bay heading in the direction of Yellowcraig. And then, somewhere between 2020 and 2021, this beach started feeling too busy for us. Just too many people around after all the distanced days. We sought out the quieter walks along the stretch of coastline between Yellowcraig and Gullane, or at John Muir Country Park. So it’s been a while since we were last here.
I can’t quite believe that we’re half way June and racing towards the longest day of the year. All winter, from the day when the clocks change back an hour in October, I’m counting down to longer days and evening walks. After the winter equinox, I watch the sunset times shift on the Tide Pro app, every day giving an extra minute or so of light in the afternoon. I didn’t think about this as a child. I never really thought about these seasonal shifts through my twenties or even in my thirties. It was just all part of life. Yet somehow, I’m now fixated by daylight. In winter, by the lack of it, and as we approach midsummer (too fast), by the fact that these minutes of light are about to start slipping away from us again.
So we are making the most of these evening walks. Walks like this one from two weekends back, when we started at Yellowcraig and headed west towards Eyebroughy and beyond.
I’ve shared about this walk in two out of the last three posts here, which tells you something: we love this walk. This stretch of coastline between Yellowcraig and Gullane has become our favourite walk so far this year – after John Muir Country Park that is, as my second home will always hold a very special place for us.
But we keep coming back to this walk for its views, its variety – beaches, dunes, winding paths, rocky shores – and its quietness.
Where to begin when writing a blog post about peaceful scenes and the beauty of nature when faced with the trauma in our world at the moment. The brutality and horrifying inhumanity of the war in Ukraine. Watching hundreds of thousands of (primarily) women and children leave the security of the lives they’ve known; their homes, their jobs, their families; their husbands, partners, fathers, brothers, sons; leaving behind their identities, for a displaced life as refugees. As I’m writing this, there are two million people, refugees, who have left Ukraine. It’s unthinkable.
Last year, before our first walk along this stretch of East Lothian’s coast, if you’d asked whether we knew Yellowcraig well, I’d have said yes, absolutely. We’ve walked at Yellowcraig for years and this is one of our favourite beaches. And not just the beach but through the woods, across the grassland, and along the dunes. This is a very familiar place to us.
Yet somehow, over the years, we’ve missed this walk, heading west from Yellowcraig in the direction of Gullane. It’s amazing how simply taking a different direction one day – in this case, heading left when you reach the beach rather than right – can lead to a completely new perspective of a familiar setting, with new views to Fidra, and the discovery of a stretch of coastline that has now become one of our favourite walks.
The last time I shared a blog post here, I started by writing: How did we get to September? At that point, I hadn’t shared a post since July and couldn’t believe how the time had just passed. And yet here I am, writing this post at the beginning of January, a whole four months later. I’m not really one for New Year resolutions. I think it’s good to have some ideas and hopes for the year ahead, but resolutions feel too inflexible for these evolving times. I clearly recall starting 2020 with resolutions (didn’t we all?). So, no resolutions, but perhaps an intention or two would be okay, starting with making/finding the time to sit down and write here. Just to sit and write.
Hello and welcome to Copperline. My name is Fiona Reid and this is my blog about coastal living in Scotland.