The River Tyne (not as in Newcastle Upon) runs through the village, and then weaves its way through fields until it runs out into the sea, at the far end of the beach at Belhaven. After all the rain of the past weeks, the water level has been up to the gunnels, carrying and dumping all sorts of debris along the edge of the riverbank, as it has swept through the countryside. However, there is a good path to follow, out of the village, which we walked today.
As you leave the village, there is a weir which the National Trust for Scotland skilfully repaired during the course of last year. There is a very pleasing contrast in texture of rippling glassy water and then a foamy choppy cascade as it tumbles over the edge of the weir.
Along the riverbank there are some signs of new life in the willow, and further along, the violet catkins of the alder.
We walked as far as an old farmhouse, which has an ancient, ruined watermill. The red sandstone blocks have weathered into all sorts of interesting shapes and textures.
By the time we got back to the weir there was handsome heron sitting, waiting for lunch to come by. We went home for a mug of hot soup.
As you leave the village, there is a weir which the National Trust for Scotland skilfully repaired during the course of last year. There is a very pleasing contrast in texture of rippling glassy water and then a foamy choppy cascade as it tumbles over the edge of the weir.
Along the riverbank there are some signs of new life in the willow, and further along, the violet catkins of the alder.
We walked as far as an old farmhouse, which has an ancient, ruined watermill. The red sandstone blocks have weathered into all sorts of interesting shapes and textures.
By the time we got back to the weir there was handsome heron sitting, waiting for lunch to come by. We went home for a mug of hot soup.
Comments
Post a Comment