Long Time No Sea, no trees.

The track was in the huff, I could feel, I left the house in the sun and when i stepped out through the kissing gates the sun went and the old railway felt angry. I had not been for such a long time, things had kept dying and living and growing older while i was gone and still the old place just kept on turning.

I watch them and they watch me.

The old railway sleepers are gone but the birch and alder and wild cherry, their trunks make for ghostly sleepers. It must have been one of the most beautiful little railway journeys in Europe , crossing the Black Isle, past the farms then with the Sea on one side of it and forest on the other, what a welcome sight it would have been for all those coming back from war, the steam billowing as the train passed Larches Leap. Home, home from  hellish battle, home if a farmer from market, home, it felt like a kind of homecoming for me today. The old fench post above i have passed hundres of times but today I noticed that, it too has a beauty to it.



the birds returned to my feeders I was amazed they noticed so soon that I was there and though, they were slightly more wary than before bth Robin and Tit fed while i sat feeling the sun on my face, there was much bird song, the collared doves and wood pigeons ,the woodpecker hammering.

I have missed this place and its graces. Soon all with be leaf above me, leaf and light and warmth.

winter and the path chosen

The kissing gates frozen and cold but inviting still the same.

 the path not yet trodden, the snow will make a secret of our passing soon enough, nature  reclaims

Boughs unbroken catch the whispered word, snow like fog makes softer our words and softer still our footfall

as we walk on to the light at the end of the trodden way and to mullied wine and fires and candles bright in the window 

we have turned and headed home as we always must but
not forgeting the friends we passed on the way, or the beauty of the day, the birds, the survivors
the blessings and the light.

Golden Forests and Golden Goodbyes.

Golden forests and the road home

Even old coal sheds can be gorgeous in autumn light

Old pines and one last birch gleaming

This Sundays walk was filled with light all golden and copper and stunning even though there was little sun. I walked while my emotions churned from awe at the beauty ot it all, my tears flowing from the sure knowledge that my father, who passed away last week, gave me all the appreciation of the wild outdoors I have now. When I was a small child in a pushchair he would point out everything on walks around ponds and along old railway lines. I learnt from him how precious this earth is and all it contains. I guess my dad will walk within me on all my future walks and one day when the tears are gone I shall remember him singing as we walked along and be glad of him. 

Track In Colour

My walk on the track this Sunday was brief, but I was glad that I went. 

The leaves are falling fast in a golden blizzard that gentle flits and furls around ones head and then becomes audible as we walk among the brown and gold carpet of crushed leaves. You can hardly see the track itself. In the past the track has become like a golden river until the rain comes and the energy changes yet again.

The image above is of a lovely spot - my old dog Ellis and I spent many hours sitting here. There are ancient Caledonian pines and the sea provides the bright light as it is directly in front of this natural view point. Ellis once dug a huge hole here I was so horrified that, the nex Spring I brought some little bulbs and planted them in the hole.  The resulting little woodland flowers bloomed for years. I know that a couple even got married here once, although they must have had a bit of a walk first.

A garden that has little to separate it from the track, full of trees, veg plots and productive disorder

as well as the most golden tree on the whole of the track.

It is hard to imagine that 56 years go there were trains billowing steam travelling along this track, it must have a beens a really wonderful ride with farm land on one side and sea on the other. In the war little boys would walk along the track late at night after they had been to watch a film at the army cinema. One old man said that his mother would have killed him if she had known that the walked along the line in the dark. 

Enjoy the intimate immensities that autumn brings, light, billowing leaves, the earth is winding down.  It so lovely to watch and feel.

turning .

For a  long time I was away from the old railway line this summer, more that a month. The weather was often awful and I dont have the stamina I once did for sitting longs hours in the rain. I left the house last Sunday when it was grey and umpromising but there you go just as I arrived at the kissing gate the sun appeared and the loved light returned.

Everything was more green than i had expected, the track does seem to turn very slowly at this time of year. Still a few blackberrys here and there. Honeysuckle flowers gone but berries pearcing the green light.

I love the luminous greens. I also love picking the leaves that have been eaten and look like lace in parts, they are perfect for my artcards but so many folk would think them unlovely and look for the bugs who had them for dinner. There a few yellow leaves but not too many yet.

I sat watching for birds at the feeders I have out of sight on the track but though each feeder is empty when I get there, no birds appear. I think the birds are being disturbed by the increase of dogs in the area so perhaps they will not appear while I am there any more.


I collected lots of leaves and grasses and this week it will be woodrush. Lets hope for nice Autumn light.

Time For Bramble Whisky Making

I have not been able to write for a bit having been in the far south, then the far north. Strange seasons this year, sort of absent.   I feel it still should be summer but one feels autumn knocking at the door. Birch leaves shiver more readily and the leaves are turning yellow, we know what comes next.  


I will have to get along the track soon to get as many leaves in as many stages of change as I can or I shall not be able to make cards next year. It is strange that, given how much of my work is inspired by trees, I should spend my holidays in Westray (Orkney), where there are almost none. the truth of it is that when i moved to a place where I could no longer by near the sea,  I found trees and marvelled at how oceanic the sound of a forest is when the wind blows - just shut your eyes and listen and you'll hear it too. This years holiday, our twelfth year visiting the island, was as special as ever.One arrives and the lovely light lifts the soul. The jewel like shores and contented cattle are like a balm. 


Three years ago we built a cairn to remember Sarah and I marvel at the kindness of the islanders have cared for and accepted it. I am also in awe that it still stands after three winters of storms. Home now for a few days then Orkney again for a few. The track will feature again soon, it always reclaims me sooner or later.

The Track and its myriad visitors...

I collect most of the material for my cards from a woodland track which was once an old railway line. It is particularly lovely at this time of year -lush and green with countless wild flowers and many types of birds. I have been lucky enough to see wrens and woodpeckers this year at feeders that I have placed at points along the track and have spotted tree climbers too who are great are fun to watch as they hop up the ancient caledonian pines. I had hoped to have lots of photos of the track this summer but alas so much rain... Hopefully we'll get an Indian summer later on. What you cannot see from the above photograph is that while walking along this old line the sea below you on one side. On a windy day it is hard to tell  the song of the sea from the windsong in the trees as the waves billow and the trees bend. I love it.

The red squirrels that appear regularly are so lovely and very welcome (long may the greys stay away). This little fellow was very clever, opening the nut holders from the top so as to get drier and fresher peanuts.  He was fully aware, if wary, of me.