For all the photos I share from this walk in beautiful light – this post from the start of this year springs to mind – there are also plenty of walks that look like this: grey, sullen, damp, dreich. And it’s easy to look at photos like these and feel that this place is a bit depressing. The fallen woodland of John Muir Country Park looks heavy in this light, in this weather. It feels heavy. And perhaps it begs the question, why share these images?
AFTER THE RAIN6th December 2022
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.
The transition from the long days of summer to the abbreviated days of autumn (and winter) is always a tough one, right? I miss our evening walks more than I can explain. They were the grounding part of my day, and also the uplifting part. Our time to get outside, to drive down the coast and walk below big skies. To watch the lads run and sniff. To exhale out the day and those tight hours spent at a desk. To let our eyes soak in wide vistas after too many hours at a screen.
THE FIDRA SERIES7th September 2022
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.
…AND THEN IT WAS BURNT6th September 2022
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?
THAT LAST GLOW30th August 2022
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.