A tornado?

It was nice and sunny when Gail and I set off to ascend Morven, our favourite Aberdeenshire hill, last Sunday.

Needless to say, conditions were not so favourable when we reached the 872 m high summit.

After a few minutes braving the full force of the westerly gale, I opted to direct photography from the relative comfort of the stone wind shelter, where I also had high hopes of finding morsels of food carelessly dropped by previous hikers.

Gail says you have to biggify the next three photos for full dramatic effect.

Before descending, I posed in front of some little yellow flowers. These are Alpine lady's mantle and they grow in the wild at high altitudes in Scotland. The harsh conditions dictate they are much tinier than their lowland cousins. That the photograph below is focussed on my beard rather than the plant is not, to my mind, a shortcoming, but Gail insisted on taking a close-up of the flowers, which also turned out to be imperfectly focussed - well it was rather windy up there...

On the way down we spotted what almost looked like mini-tornado in the distance.

By the time we reached the lower slopes, the sun was shining brightly on the blooming heather and, miraculously, we somehow dodged the showers and made it back to the car without once getting wet! 

Happy Nature Friday friends! Once again we are delighted to join in with Rosy, Jakey, Arty and Sunny for their weekly blog hop. 

More fun on Morven?

Fellow pups, have you ever been out for a walk and spotted a group who look like they might be more fun that your own human(s)?

It happened to me on Monday.

Making the most of the uncommonly fine winter weather, Gail took me for a hike up Morven, which as you know is our favourite Aberdeenshire hill.

We thought we had the place to ourselves, but as we were approaching the summit plateau, a bunch of young hill runners, accompanied by a sprightly Labrador, sped past, and I decided to join them.

Now Gail claims to be tolerably fit for her age, so I presumed she'd be able to keep up with my youthful new friends. OK, so yes I did hear her frantically calling "wait Bertie, WAIT!" but, well, I guess I'm not the first middle aged male to forget himself in the excitement of chasing after younger companionship...

Did I mention that a gale force westerly was blowing in our faces? ('Fine weather' is always a relative term in Scotland.) So anyway I pretended not to hear Gail and continued up the hill with my new pals.

I could of course have kept up with the runners all the way, but in the end I took pity on poor old Gail, puffing and panting with exertion as the gap between us widened, and I waited for her to catch up.

By the time we reached the summit, my new friends were disappearing over the far side of the hill while I, as usual, obliged with my best windswept poses. (You'll notice that for some reason my walking string is attached at this point...)

Clouds and cloudberries

 

Sometimes, in the face of weakening resolve, our humans need a bit of gentle persuasion, don't you find?

On Saturday morning Gail announced that she thought the cloudberries near the summit of Morven (our favourite Aberdeenshire hill) would be ripe and it was time to go for a forage.

Fine by me.

But when we reached the parking area, rain was splattering against the car windscreen, the top half of the hill was hidden under a thick blanket of cloud, and Gail came over all hesitant, muttering something about maybe a lower level walk, and picking raspberries instead.

Well I just gave her a 'look', which she correctly interpreted as saying:

"Raspberries are easy to find, and really not special at all. And by the way, the clue is in the name, CLOUD-berries. I think we should ascend as planned."

The rain ceased shortly after we set off up the narrow steep path through the heather. We met no other humans. The rounded summit was alive with ptarmigan and mountain hare, although when I moved to make a meal of one (no longer living) hare, Gail firmly pulled me away, asserting, "I didn't mean that sort of foraging Bertie!"

I'll admit I'm not the most patient of berry picking companions, especially when kept on a lead because of poor visibility and enticing wildlife. But eventually Gail located enough ripe cloudberries to serve as an accompaniment to her home made 'no-churn' ice cream when her friends John and Françoise came round for dinner later in the day.

So all in all it was a highly successful outing, and I think Gail is now grateful I had earlier given her that 'look'.

Bertie displays his competitive streak...

(The scene: a Saturday morning walk on Morven, our favourite Aberdeenshire hill)

So come on Gail, don't waste time looking at that boring old flower, we have a hill to climb!

Bertie, it is a cloudberry flower, and not boring at all. My book says the cloudberry plant is 'shy flowerer' in Britain. Anyway, what's the hurry?

Well Gail, we don't want that group of four men and one Labrador, who left their car just after we did, to overtake us, do we now? 

Bertie, frankly I couldn't care less. This is not a competition. Don't be so 'male' about it all. Just savour the moment, being out in our wonderful landscape on a fine midsummer day. To quote Nan Shepherd "... the mountain gives itself most completely when I have no destination, when I reach nowhere in particular, but have gone out merely to be with the mountain as one visits a friend with no intention but to be with him". And anyway, I think the Lab party took a different, less direct route up.

Er, yes Gail, of course, of course. Look, there's the summit, let's race!

Oh god, I'm having a flashback to childhood outings with my brother....

And now we're at the top, and the other group is nowhere in sight. Hooray! We won!

(Gail sighs).

(15-20 minutes later)

OK Bertie, that's enough of a break, time to move on, it's getting chilly.

No, no, no, look here are the others, finally! Maybe you can find out the name and age of the Lab? I bet he's younger than me.

(Gail talks to the humans while the dogs size each other up).

Well Bertie, you are right, 'Angus' is only two years old. Although I surmise that the accompanying humans are considerably older. But guess what? Angus's owner is most impressed at how quickly we ascended the steeper of the two routes up the hill. Happy now?

Totally happy, Gail, totally.

Beauty is unfenced

Bertie votes no to barbed wire...

Inspired by a walk on Morven

An Ode to Freedom

The 'Right to Roam' is a thing to be treasured,
In Scotland it's the law.
If you're a 'Good Boy' you can wander at leisure
Through forest, on mountain and moor.

There are just a few rules to obey - they're not hard.
Around livestock you need to attach
A lead to your human. And be on your guard
That they never leave field gates unlatched.

Rejoicing in freedom, your spirits will soar
As the prospect before you unfolds.
The wide open spaces demand you explore
And a joyous excitement takes hold.