The Glebe Blog: 08/2010

Sunday, 29 August 2010

A walk in the woods-August 2010

This is connected to the recent 'Bzzz Bzzz Busy' post.

I went for a walk in the forest on Friday the 27th of August.Parking at Glenamour,I'd marked myself a short circular route to take in Glenamour Loch and Wee Glenamour.
I didn't expect to see much or take many pictures,but I surprised myself.The results are in the following pictures and clip.

The Wigtownshire Ramblers-Isle of Whithorn to Garlieston August 2010

It's Saturday the 28th 0f August and we're meeting at Garlieston to catch the bus to the Isle of Whithorn for todays walk.
The bus driver looked in shock as he turned the corner to the bus stop and saw such a large group with rucksacks awaiting to board his bus.A nice light moment for the start of todays walk.
Having been asked again to do the press release for this walk,I'll use it throughout this blog.

Early showers greeted the twenty two ramblers who alighted from the bus at the Isle of Whithorn for the start of the walk.

They began by making their way to the shore via the inlet known as "Stinking Port" .

Now heading north along the rocky coastline they passed the large outcrop known as "The Clept" with it's natural haven, once used as a harbour for fishing boats.
I explored the caves and shore around the Clept earlier this summer,but I seem to have lost the pictures I took on that occasion.Another senior moment?!

Next they reached the trig point at Stein Head,possibly the second most southerly on Scotlands mainland,the most southerly being on Inshanks Fell in the South Rhins.

I was down this way earlier in the week when there were a few fishing boats about...there's none out today.

Now the view over Wigtown Bay opened up with the Galloway Hills prominent.

A field of cows with a large lazy bull was safely negotiated bringing the walkers to their first drystane dyke stile.

After a further two dykes and many wave lashed rocky inlets they reached the plantation at Cairnhead.

Just above an outcrop called Doctor's Rock many of the walkers divested themselves of the waterproofs which had been in regular use since the walk start.It looks like it's clearing up.

Here they saw a few remains of what was the military camp built as a part of the ww2 project,the "Mulberry Harbour". Reaching Cairnhead Bay the remains of a concrete "Beetle" was prominent in the low tide.

Reaching Portyerrock Bay a break was taken for refreshments. Light-hearted banter was passed between some folk who'd been collecting whelks and mussels.

Next they made their way through the first of the many modern "Kissing Gates" on the walk,and onto the Isle of Whithorn to Garlieston road.
Reaching Portyerrock they again made their way to the coastline passing the converted Portyerrock Mill.

At Millers Port,seagulls and swans filled the bay.

From Millers Port they continued on the coastal path, passing fields of harvested barley and maize swaying freely in the wind.Sloe berries and brambles were abundant in their fruition.
In another field,a friendly Clydesdale had a belted galloway bullock and a cow for company.

Thanks for the above pictures Scoop.Not so many close-ups though,and get my right side.! Who am I kiddin..I take better pictures than I'm taken.

Reaching White Bay the layout of two Iron Age promontory forts were evident, being surrounded by artificial banks and ditches.

This is us coming up to Port Allen.An abundance of seagulls was another feature of todays walk.

Two more remnants of WW2 in the shape of ruined lookout posts were investigated.

Another point of interest was a large cave under Palmallet Point.

Scaffolding covered the remains of Cruggleton Castle.The access to the site was closed off due to ongoing repairs.A lunch break was taken on a nearby grassy bank overlooking the sea.The showers had dried up and the sun made an appearance.

This is looking back to Sliddery Point.I think I've mentioned it before,but the recently renovated Cruggleton Lodge is some spot for holidaymakers.

Next they left the coast and headed inland to Cruggleton Church.

There's a farm and spread north of Creetown called Glenquicken.The farmer's now diversified into wind turbines.That's one of his above.More info at Glenquicken-eng.Com

The church is of Norman origin, having been established in the early twelfth century by Fergus,the first Lord of Galloway.

With the walk leader having borrowed the key,the group were allowed the priviledge of looking inside this historic building.A regular walker was delighted when the group burst into song wishing him a happy birthday.

The group now numbered twenty three having been joined by a fellow rambler for the remainder of the walk.

They now rejoined the Isle of Whithorn to Garlieston road heading north.Reaching the restored 18th century High Lodge Cottage they again took to the fields.A Victorian wrought iron gate brought them to the ruined Snowdrop Cottage,and the grounds of Galloway House.

Next they made their way through the mixed woodland back to the shoreline at Rigg Bay,and the short delightful walk back into Garlieston.
A good walk was concluded by some of the group paying a visit to the Garlieston Flower, Vegetable and Craft Show.

A lovely day in excellent company.

Saturday, 28 August 2010

Bzzz Bzzz Busy on Glenamour Loch

Filmed on the 27th of August 2010 around the banks of Glenamour Loch near Newton Stewart in South West Scotland.
As the end of summer approaches,our small winged friends make the most of a sunny day.
Thanks to Mobygratis for the excellent musical piece 'The come down',and a little smattering of '18'

There's pictures and another video to come from this quiet little walk

Wednesday, 25 August 2010

Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott

I've only recently started reading Sir Walter Scott,which is very amiss of me being of Central and South East Scotland stock.
I've messed about with a picture I took on my recent trip to Edinburgh.
If the piper in question ever happens upon this page and recognises himself,maybe he'll get in touch.

O young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers and all:
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,)
"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"

"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied; --
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide --
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."

The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up,
He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, --
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a gailiard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'twere better by far
To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

Sir Walter Scott