The spell of frosty nights and sunny days broke today and left us with one of these ‘no weather’ type of days - no wind, no rain, no sun, no heat, no cold, just no weather. No complaints from us though for it was dry and reasonably mild for the time of year and a perfect day for a walk by the sea.
Seven Ooters - Alan, Allan, Davie, Ian, Jimmy, Paul and Peter - gathered at Johnny’s to enjoy his usual hospitality before the eight of us headed off to the car park at Portincross.
Even in the car park, the twitchers were at it, binoculars scanning the sea. What did they see? They saw the sea for very little was moving on it this morning. So, we set off on the walk.
Two hundred metres later, we stopped to view the ruins of Portincross Castle. The present castle dates from the reign of Robert the second in mid fourteenth century though there appears to have been an earlier structure there. Today it is weatherworn but still substantial. They certainly knew how to build things back then. No baked clay brick or reinforced concrete here, just locally quarried red sandstone held together by shell mortar. Peter enthused over this stonework; particularly the blue-grey cornerstones. W
e were all suitably impressed.
Back on the path, we turned ourselves northward but stopped again within a few yards. A lobster creel hung over a fence and in the lobster creel was a tabby cat. Not that it was trapped there for there was an opening at the back through which it could come and go, but it obviously thought this a good place to relax. It was recalled that the creels at Ballantrae (September 17) had been bated with sparrows but we felt that baiting them with cats is just too much. We left Pussie to her slumbers and walked on.
The group split into two along the raised beach. The birders formed the slower and those who stood a hundred metres along the path and waited patiently for them, the faster. Paul, who has joined the ranks of the twitchers, was delighted when a Red-breasted Merganser was spotted but most of us think the birders just make up these names. It was just another duck.
When we reached the power station at Hunterston, we thought that the birders might give up. No chance! Even on the tarmac, they had binoculars trained into a wet field. We think the non-birders showed remarkable patience today; especially when they spotted a bird and the noise from the approaching aviphiles frightened it away. ‘It was only a stonechat anyway’ was their superior comment.
We took the estate road by Hunterston Castle. The autumn colour was still on the trees despite the efforts of the wind and this part of the walk was a delight. Paul, Jimmy and Ian halted at the castle to read the Latin inscription on the clock there. Paul translated this as ‘I number the quick hours’ but Jimmy’s colloquial translation ‘It’s later than ye think’ might be more to the point.
By the time the trio had translated or mistranslated the Latin, the rest of us were two hundred metres in front. Shouts from the rear for coffee brought us to a halt and coffee was taken on the same bank by the side of the road that we had taken it the last time. We suspect Davie might have leanings towards the Closed Brethren for, while the rest of us sat together for coffee, he took his on the opposite side of the road.
Maybe it was our aftershave.
Coffee finished, we set off along the road again. We passed a field with a large flock of curlew feeding in it. ‘Whaups’, Jimmy called them though Peter remains convinced they were curlews.
Holly caused a stushie when she left the road and went through an open fence into the field, as far as we could see an empty field. A wee wummin at the far side of this field started shouting the odds - something about breaking the law, sheep molesting (steady, Davie) and chickens. Her aggressive attitude prompted Davie into a suitable response, which raised the harridan’s blood pressure even higher. The wee man at her side said nothing, wise wee soul. We left her shouting about chickens and continued along the road. We reckon that her noise disturbed her chickens more than Holly ever would.
The rest of the walk was uneventful. We passed the new house that’s still not finished and turned right on the Portincross road. Signs along this road indicated footpaths to the shore and it was suggested we might go down to the shore. Davie told us it would be hard going over the slippery rocks down there so we kept to the road and came back to the car park that way.
A shorter walk than of late but an interesting one in many ways, not least the woman with the chickens.
The Merrick in Seamill provided FRT today.
Seven Ooters - Alan, Allan, Davie, Ian, Jimmy, Paul and Peter - gathered at Johnny’s to enjoy his usual hospitality before the eight of us headed off to the car park at Portincross.
Even in the car park, the twitchers were at it, binoculars scanning the sea. What did they see? They saw the sea for very little was moving on it this morning. So, we set off on the walk.
Two hundred metres later, we stopped to view the ruins of Portincross Castle. The present castle dates from the reign of Robert the second in mid fourteenth century though there appears to have been an earlier structure there. Today it is weatherworn but still substantial. They certainly knew how to build things back then. No baked clay brick or reinforced concrete here, just locally quarried red sandstone held together by shell mortar. Peter enthused over this stonework; particularly the blue-grey cornerstones. W
e were all suitably impressed.Back on the path, we turned ourselves northward but stopped again within a few yards. A lobster creel hung over a fence and in the lobster creel was a tabby cat. Not that it was trapped there for there was an opening at the back through which it could come and go, but it obviously thought this a good place to relax. It was recalled that the creels at Ballantrae (September 17) had been bated with sparrows but we felt that baiting them with cats is just too much. We left Pussie to her slumbers and walked on.
The group split into two along the raised beach. The birders formed the slower and those who stood a hundred metres along the path and waited patiently for them, the faster. Paul, who has joined the ranks of the twitchers, was delighted when a Red-breasted Merganser was spotted but most of us think the birders just make up these names. It was just another duck.
When we reached the power station at Hunterston, we thought that the birders might give up. No chance! Even on the tarmac, they had binoculars trained into a wet field. We think the non-birders showed remarkable patience today; especially when they spotted a bird and the noise from the approaching aviphiles frightened it away. ‘It was only a stonechat anyway’ was their superior comment.
We took the estate road by Hunterston Castle. The autumn colour was still on the trees despite the efforts of the wind and this part of the walk was a delight. Paul, Jimmy and Ian halted at the castle to read the Latin inscription on the clock there. Paul translated this as ‘I number the quick hours’ but Jimmy’s colloquial translation ‘It’s later than ye think’ might be more to the point.
By the time the trio had translated or mistranslated the Latin, the rest of us were two hundred metres in front. Shouts from the rear for coffee brought us to a halt and coffee was taken on the same bank by the side of the road that we had taken it the last time. We suspect Davie might have leanings towards the Closed Brethren for, while the rest of us sat together for coffee, he took his on the opposite side of the road.
Maybe it was our aftershave.Coffee finished, we set off along the road again. We passed a field with a large flock of curlew feeding in it. ‘Whaups’, Jimmy called them though Peter remains convinced they were curlews.
Holly caused a stushie when she left the road and went through an open fence into the field, as far as we could see an empty field. A wee wummin at the far side of this field started shouting the odds - something about breaking the law, sheep molesting (steady, Davie) and chickens. Her aggressive attitude prompted Davie into a suitable response, which raised the harridan’s blood pressure even higher. The wee man at her side said nothing, wise wee soul. We left her shouting about chickens and continued along the road. We reckon that her noise disturbed her chickens more than Holly ever would.
The rest of the walk was uneventful. We passed the new house that’s still not finished and turned right on the Portincross road. Signs along this road indicated footpaths to the shore and it was suggested we might go down to the shore. Davie told us it would be hard going over the slippery rocks down there so we kept to the road and came back to the car park that way.
A shorter walk than of late but an interesting one in many ways, not least the woman with the chickens.
The Merrick in Seamill provided FRT today.
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