A New Morning Walk

Those of you with good memories and who used to read the blog when we lived in treeless-looking-onto-the-Atlantic Ness may remember a post from way back showing photos of my early morning walk. The post can be seen here, but I'll post a photo from that post - just one - to give you some idea of the contrast between the beauty that surrounded me then and the beauty that surrounds me now.

What do you see? Well, there's a whole lot of sky; a whole lot of flat land; and not a tree in sight. 

But that was then, and this is now:

See how different my surrounding countryside is! Amazingly fertile farmland in the distance, some very green grass on which cows were grazing last week, and trees.

If you join me on my walk, you'll see there are lots and lots of trees.

Here I am heading down the hillside, and facing East. To a great extent, the direction matters not, because the sky is hidden by trees. The surrounding countryside is hidden by trees.

Have I mentioned trees? Yes, I've now walked East, North, and am now heading West. As I said ... the direction matters little: we have trees.

But just as I begin to think there is nothing left in the world but trees. Just as I begin to feel I need to breathe, I get a glimpse of the stunningly open farmland beyond the forest.

And I feel like I can breathe. And I am aware of  a spontaneous smile on my face.

And sky! Blue, open, spacious, wide sky. 

I could almost dance! 

I look behind me at the trees, 

and look again to the north-west. I savour every open mile to which my eyes can stretch. I drink it in because I know that very soon,

instead of open spaces, instead of farmed fields, and hints of distant mountains ...

instead of the glorious patchwork of growth, of planting, and of harvest ...

I will soon be walking under an umbrella of trees.

The sun is hidden, the views have gone,

and all I have is greenery and shadows.

If anything shows how much of a Niseach I am at heart, it's my reaction to all the trees that surround us here. Now, don't get me wrong - I love trees ... when they're at a distance. But I can't get my head around why people choose to live in houses surrounded by beautiful countryside which is hidden from view by trees!

I'm quite sure when the good ol' folks planted all these trees long, long ago, they did not mean for us all to spend our lives hidden away, out of sight of the beauty. I'm sure they'd tell us, if they could, to cut them down. Loads of them ... just chop them down, folks!

You see, I'm from Lewis - specifically from Ness, and we don't really do trees there. We like to look out our windows and see. Far. 

Remember when I used to look out our windows and see the crofts, the machair, and then the Atlantic all the way to the horizon. I was used to space.

And much as I love - and I really do love - the scenery around here, I have decided that if and when we end up building a home out here, my first criteria will be that our plot is not surrounded by trees. 

And just before we leave this post, and head back to our daily work, just one more glimpse at another scene I captured on that morning walk all that time ago:

How's that for eye-candy, eh?

Sunshine, Trees, a Walk, and Some Stunning Scenery

Our cottage sits on the side of a hill. From the front of the cottage, we look down the hill - primarily at trees, albeit beautifully coloured trees at this time of year. And so the trees are forgiven for hiding the countryside beyond.

However, today we headed out the back of the house ...

and into the wooded area behind the cottage.

The sun was shining, it was the mildest of November days, and Katie and Calum Stewart  persuaded me to head out into the sunshine.

Katie, like me, stuck to the tracks, whilst the Wee Guy took less conventional routes.

These trees are tall. 

The aged parent (that's me) was way fitter than the pair who were following me up the path.

C'mon guys! 

The day was stunning. The view was beyond stunning, if that is possible. Our frequent stops on the way up the path had nothing to do with the steepness of the climb and our own general lack of fitness, did it, Katie?

Nope. Not at all. Our frequent stops were simply to drink in some of the beauty around us.

Above the tree line, there was little growing but heather. Most of it had a real beyond-summer look to it, but here and there, there were splashes of colour still remaining.

I do love the way some plants cling on to summer for as long as possible, extending their flowering season and so giving us the pleasure of their colourful beauty well after their allotted time has passed. It feels like they've gone above and beyond their call of duty, for no reason other than to give us added pleasure.

Bennachie is right behind where we live, and although we weren't climbing Bennachie, we climbed to the top of part of this ridge.

Clearly a number of folks had added their own stone to this càrn over the years. It was so beautiful today, we could easily have sat having a picnic here. As it was, we'd come food-less (never excusable), and so we simply drank in the beauty around us.

Here's Bennachie, south of where we were. All being well, we'll reach the fort at the top one day. After all, to not go to where a fort is would be, well, unforgivable. Ain't that right, CS?

It was a fair way up our chosen path, but an easy enough walk. And of course the descent was great fun! I'm so glad I persuaded myself to leave my work, forget my ironing, and even ignore the fact that Calum Stewart had done his History, but not his Maths or any of his other work, and siezed the moment.

Winter isn't far off, and so enjoying this Indian summer kinda day was important. What was even more important was simply enjoying some outdoor fun with the Wee Guy, who isn't wee any more, and who is, at least, still living with us.

Unlike the two older kids who've deserted us. What's all that about, eh? What on earth has possessed them to think of living away from their Mum and Dad. I mean ... they're still babies, for crying out loud.

Well, they were just a couple of short years ago.

On My Doorstep...

I have more wedding posts in the offing, but lest you get fed up of me rambling on about the most important event in world history ....okay, in our lives at least .... I shall change the subject for this post.

A couple of months ago, DR and I were driving somewhere outside of the Inverness area, when I made him stop so I could photograph this scene.

I was saying to him that this kind of scene is probably my all-time favourite of all the scenic scenes I see. I do love the actual scene, but I think there’s something more going on inside my heart or my mind when I see this. Yes, it’s beautiful for my eyes to behold, but my heart feels something too. I get something of the satisfaction the farmer must feel when he sees his field at this stage. He has planted, God has watered, and the fruits of the farmer’s labours are to be seen. It’s almost the time of year when he’s going to be able to rest a little. The hard work has paid off, and the results are there to be seen. 

Bales in a field really move me.

And so, how can I not praise God that He has now placed me in a situation where, if I move 100 yds from my door, this is what I see:

And the following photo gives you a flavour of what I have to ‘endure’ on the short 3-mile drive into Inverurie, our nearest town:

And I love this photo too ...

Some people may see a landscape spoilt by man’s modern living. Pylons and windmills, they may say, ruin what could be an idyllic rural scene. But to be honest, I don’t see it that way. Yes, I see the beauty of a rural scene, but in a rather strange way, the evidence of modern blessings enhance the scene for me.

Does that make sense to y’all? It may or may not, but I’m quite used to not being made sense of in many quarters. C’est la vie!

Oh, and in case y'all hadn't noticed ... Scotland is beautiful! East, west, north and south - they all have different scenery, but I can't be the only one to be simply blown away by it.