Stories and photos from Scotland
Bare feet on warm sand. This is rare. In April. In Scotland.
It’s like being in a fairy-tale, everything shiny and magical and new.
The sea is cold as ever, we beat a quick retreat.
Water reflects dunes and makes art in the sand.
We bask in the absence of wind. No need to brace against it or hurry inside.
Relaxed, we walk on.
The first serendipitous happening of the day was the haar (Scottish word for mist that rolls in off the sea) and its silvery filtering of the sunlight. Then there was the seagull that flew by as I took the photo.
Inland we travelled, to bright sunshine and summer colours and the stones of Castle Fraser. I’ve made the picture below clickable to a larger version; to the left are two standing stones and to the right, in the distance by the trees, is Balgorkar stone circle.
I thought we’d have to just view it from the side of the field, but no, some naughty person had trampled a pathway through the crop, so we did no further damage by walking it:
Recumbent and flankers:
On to Castle Fraser itself, where I was meant to be doing research for writing on heraldry, historic dates and architecture. This took the form of running about taking photos:
Love the rooftop:
Then, after picnicking, with only half the day gone, we decided to head to ruinous Kildrummy Castle a few miles further on.
In the reception was an old friend who I hadn’t seen for years. There was hugging and much talking. Other people got fed up waiting… but it was good. We kept saying it was amazing. My friend is currently doing a PhD in history, some of our conversation became spontaneous research. We finally moved to look round:
I do appreciate the use of the adverb ‘treacherously’ there; without it we might think Osbourne the Blacksmith to have merely made a mistake or had an unfortunate accident such as tripping with a pot of molten metal or dropping a freshly forged sword…
The day ended with a visit to Broomend of Crichie stone circle, Pictish stone in the middle:
This blogpost is ending in a rather unrelated way, with some ballet. It’s beautiful and romantic; only two minutes long. Scottish Ballet performing at the opening of the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow earlier this week:
You can watch the entire ceremony here on the BBC iplayer, ballet is 1 hour and 27 minutes in.
There’s a public art project going on in Aberdeen for the next ten weeks: Wild Dolphins
Fifty life size beasties lurk in streets, parks, museums and shopping centres. My twitter stream is full of them; I excitedly tweeted and scanned (there’s an app) my way round the city so will try to post mainly different pictures here. This first one is a collage of Aberdeen’s Leopard magazine, I love its eye below.
The next two are near Marischal College, previously part of Aberdeen University, the building now houses Aberdeen City Council, which means I can’t wander in to look at the mummies in the museum anymore. Those are its spires behind this dotty boy:
Glad they’ve kept the old gate though, seems suitably forbidding and ‘keepy-outy’:
In front of the College sits a dolphin called ‘Bon Accord Beauty’; he displays the city coat of arms with its three castles and two leopards (more on it here). To the right is Provost Skene’s house, closed just now due to the surrounding demolition. Shame, I could have done with a cup of tea in the dungeon-esque cellar cafe.
On we go, past the leopards of Union Bridge…
…into the Victorian amphitheartre of Union Terrace Gardens, where there are two dolphins. The statue of William Wallace looks down from above, in front of His Majesty’s Theatre. You may have to look hard to spot the leopards in this photo but they are there, as, less fortunately, is the rear end of a park attendant.
Finally, we head off to the beach to look at nautical creations:
One inspired by the fauna of the riverside:
And, contrary to the title though it is, let’s end on the beautiful detail of the dolphin’s nose: moths.
Bennachie is a large hill that can be seen for miles in Aberdeenshire. Its craggy peaks seem to loom out of nowhere as you drive round twisty corners of country roads. I once climbed it three times in one day for charity; complainers of sore legs were reminded of that fact yesterday. The top of Harthill Castle, which was owned and restored by the late American writer Ann Savage, is just visible over the trees.
The start of any Bennachie climb – we took the easiest ‘Rowan Tree’ route – starts with a misleading forest stroll:
Then you’re out into the baking sun (sometimes; you are equally as likely to emerge into a dense Stephen King-esque mist) and views expand.
Parts of the path are pure exposed rock, it feels like standing on the bare face of the planet. I like to kneel and kiss the stone; you do see some strange people on Bennachie…
The ascent gradually gets steeper, the sun gets hotter, but the Mither Tap nears. Big cairn, little cairn:
There’s a Pictish hillfort on the top, you pass between its walls…
and then cling, terrified, to the side of the uppermost rocks as the wind buffets you. That bit is over quickly. The landscape soon owns your attention.
The Maiden Stone stands near the foot of the hill, a ninth century Pictish stone displaying a good example of the mysterious, much debated, ‘Pictish beast’. Swimming elephant? Dolphin? Kelpie?
A few miles further on is Loanhead of Daviot Stone Circle, the first recumbent circle I ever visited, beautifully cared for by Historic Scotland.
Will I stop now? No, one more, then we can put our feet up.
The view turns green.
Fairies dance and laugh in the woods.
The canopy returns.
Trees froth and flower, filling the air with their sweetness.
There’s blue above and blue below. The return of summer.