November Country Walks

Long-shadowed November, fields of mud and turnips, shotguns and crows.  

Grateful for another clear morning as we come round the frost-shaded wood to bathe in sunlight.

It's the time of year when morning *and* evening dog walks start/end in the dark. Now where did I put that light up collar...

At the other end of the day a walk at dusk, cosy lights from village houses. Out over the fields the nightly return of the geese to Gladhouse, honking in their thousands, heading upstream like the Severn Bore.  

This year the weather has been exceptional, leaves gently falling from oak and sycamore in the windless air. I can only recall one bad week all season, when the storm came. White curtains of hail sweeping across black fields, my dog Skye, usually so dauntless, battered and cowed.  

Grand plans are laid for a big walk in the Pentlands while the sheep are off the hill for tupping, but then I go and pull a muscle in my back! I am pissed off for a day, but at first light next morning hobble up Great Law, the knoll where the Knights Templars are said to have buried their treasure, to see if I can find some gold of my own. 

Skye on Great Law: