Sights and womders

A walk yesterday afternoon took me out of town and, within minutes, I felt I was almost in the middle of nowhere. The sort of place where people say it's quiet. I say it's anything but quiet, they just aren't listening. It's also the sort of place where some say there's nothing to see. I say, they aren't looking.

There's so much about the walk I could have recorded, but it was more the experience. Watching sand martins skim the river for bugs. Or watching the bees (which there aren't many of) doing what bees do, and admiring the wildflowers along the dry stane dyke.

Then, there was the point where I got the the ford in the road. I knew about it - it's marked on the map. In some ways, I was looking forward to the experience of crossing it by foot. On a day like yesterday, the cooling water would have been bliss on my hot feet. But there was a footbridge above, not shown on the map due to limitations in the scale. I crossed that way instead.

There was the heron pair, in flight. A flight which is almost slow motion; almost too little effort to keep such a large bird in the air. I lost sight of them, but I assume they were heading for their nest. With the river low, I suspect they are travelling further to find fish (or, perhaps it makes catching them easier.

To top it all. Well, maybe top isn't quite the right word. Heading back round for the manse a roe deer burst out of a stand of trees, bounding across an open field. I watched and it stopped. It looked at me. In a moment, which was fleeting, but seemed to last, we met each others eyes, then it turned and we continued on our journeys.