Monday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 05
November 2012
Walk Dogs on walk Rambling round Winton House Length 6 miles

Dylan, Jolie, Lucas, Tim, Struan, Talaidh

The frosts wrinkled white fingers spread across the ground in a fine cobweb. The sun too low in the sky to offer any thawing warmth. Our first frosty day since the end on last winter. And ice too, on paths hidden by the trees, sheltering frozen puddles. Ice all the way across the surface like a misted mirror. But not very thick as the Dylan and then Jolie demonstrated. The sharp crack causing birds to sing out in alarm. A zig-zag of broken ice, water bubbling underneath it as air pockets had been formed by the crunch of the dogs paws into the cold water beneath. Little waves of water spilling out of the chasm created by the dogs and like an incoming tide rushing toward the shore of hardened mud. Itself a landscape of mountain ranges, solid underfoot. We conquered several peaks with each step we took. The dogs fascination for the icy puddles only interrupted by the arrival of a snowy white Westie. Just a wee young boy he adored the attention of the others. We ploughed on deeper along the track toward the old railway and the bustle of the grain mill. Its silver hulk like an ice sculpture groaning on the slight rise in temperature. As its machinery whirred and lorries and diggers rumbled about like busy worker bees feeding and tending the queen inside.

Another dog met in amongst this din. Much more timid and we did not linger. Tim happy to heed me and leave well alone like the others. Not being left well alone was Lucas. Jolie was beside herself as though she had not seen him in months let alone one week. Well more beside him in actual fact, leaping, nudging and prowling around him trying all her charm and guile to get him to play. How could he resist. Tim needed far less encouragement to get involved. And no amount of encouragement was going to work on Dylan. Struan and Talaidh were also happy to leave the fun to the youngsters. We closed in rapidly on another dog ahead. This brisk, clear day bringing folk out. It was now just ahead on the narrow path splitting a field of levelled earth, Spring seeds cupped in its warmth dampness like hibernating animals waiting for the first rays of the warming post winter sun. Now only yards behind and the dogs walking impeccably to heel they all suddenly fell off. A dead rabbit beside the path was far more interesting than this ten a penny Labrador ahead of us. This gave its owner and it time to head off a different path as we sidled along beside more fields this time lush with grass and satisfied sheep. Or low green crops already pushing into the dusky light. Jolie keeping the fun going on the grass path between the fields fences and the deep cut burn on our left. Eventually we crossed one of the fields and then another burn to clamber up into the golden cloak of woodland. Glittering and sparkling as the suns low rays caught the leaves. Some twirling and dancing as they fell from the high branches toyed with by the breeze. Others already on the ground a great weave of cloak to warm the cold earth. Reflecting light like thousands of jewels bringing a warm golden glow to the woodland. Back across the burn on a wobbling wooden bridge and we were below the elegant white tower of Winton House and near the gentle curve of the three arched stone bridge cutting Pencaitland into two. Here we turned and headed back staying high up in the woodland above the fields. The sun like a mountaineer having hauling themself up the last of the rock face to peer over the top, had topped the trees and melted the ice on many of the puddles. The once solid mountains of mud now folding and collapsing beneath our feet. Eroding away like the

walk which was now nearing its end. Like a great orange sun setting on the horizon the sight of the car brought the walk to its end like the drawing of the day.

Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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