This is going to be mostly pictures because my right hand gets really sore when I type at the moment. Bloody rubbish for a writer.

Sunday’s Walk

On Sunday we broke with tradition and, instead of our usual tramp up Gallow Hill we went to the nature reserve. Actually it’s two nature reserves: one belongs to the Wildlife Club, and is very pretty and neat, the other is the Community Nature Reserve, and is somewhat wilder. But they are side by side, and the Wildlife Club has two of its members on the board of the other, so they’re almost the same thing. The lichen covered bench in the header image is just on the WC side of this:

At some point as we walked briskly along we saw a hare flash past. Later we heard a stock dove (the Husband saw it too, but I didn’t have my glasses on so it just looked like a fuzzy pigeon), apparently they’re quite rare in these parts.

On the way home we dropped into our local supermarket for supplies. We were almost out of milk, our fruit-bowl contained only two wizened oranges, and the Marmite jar was empty. How often is too often to go out to get food? I mean what is a good balance between hoarding and going out? At the moment we’re almost managing to last two weeks between shopping trips, but it’s my birthday next week and I’d quite like to be able to get something nice to cook. And maybe some cream to eat with the cake I plan to make. And maybe a bottle of something that sparkles. Would that be risking lives for my own selfish pleasure seeking?

Anyway, back to the walks!

On Monday we did go up the hill, but only to go over the top and out the back gate into a field, past some sheep, through another gate, and out onto a track. We could have gone left, into a forest (unnatural plantation, like a tree factory) but turned right and came to this rather nice spot.

On Tuesday we did the same thing, only at the track we turned left into the forest. We walked through that for a bit, then climbed over a fence (barbed wire and everything!) and out into a bog. It was a very bouncy walk. And then we came to this:

I do like a cleavage.

This was our longest walk yet, we normally do about four kilometres, but this was over six. By the time we got home I thought my hips were going to seize up so, rather than encourage that by sitting down, I made scones. It worked, after pottering about in the kitchen for half an hour they loosened up, and no stiffening occurred.

Wednesday we bypassed the hill, again, and took in Jenny’s view:

and a forest of larch trees with tiny, neon green buds dotting branches still garlanded with cones. We inadvertently disturbed a raven who started flying about madly and calling its warning. They are nesting at the moment, so we didn’t hang around too long.

The Husband was not amused at this tree’s having been newly cut down. That blob of twigs is a nest that will no longer be able to home the bird who built it.
The view of Moffat so beloved of Jenny.
Contender for door of the year.
Granddaughter, Charlotte (nearly 7!), was delighted to be ‘April Fooled’ by this photo I sent via WhatsApp.

Thursday was too windy for me so we didn’t go out for our daily exercise. Instead I tried to grind cacao nibs finely enough to flavour a cake. It didn’t work.

Today we are going to try something entirely different, walk-wise; if I can still function afterwards I’ll at least share some photos.


PS: Having been utterly unable to buy any paracetamol since this crisis took hold, I searched online and found a supply, it arrived the next day, in a plain card box. We now have enough for one person for five days, I’m hoping that will get us through.

Published by Eryl Gasper Dick

I am an artist and writer living in southwest Scotland. I freelance as a Literature Ambassador (for Wigtown Festival Co. who run the Scottish Book Town); as a creative writing teacher; and a content provider, populating people's websites and marketing materials with perfectly honed, clear sentences. When I'm not gadding about supporting writers, lit events, businesses, and students I write fiction, non-fiction, and the odd poem. I avidly believe that creativity is the answer to the problem.

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3 Comments

  1. I love the views – especially those split rocks. Rocks and Scotland are now synonymous in my mind. If we get through this virus I’m going to continue my exploration of the shingle beaches along some of our local rivers. My finds so far are amazing.

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