Church to Dysart Sunday 29th November 2009

Of a' the airts the winds can blaw, we got the full blast of them today. We started at the kirk, walking down Salisbury Street, Townsend Crescent, Townsend Place and Coal Wynd before we reached the Harbour end of the town. Rona, leading today's walk took us past the Harbour and Hutchison's flour mills and on to, I mean right onto, the beach. Bracing it was, and a few of us were almost caught out when a wave came further in than expected and had us squealing and clambering onto some wee rocks for safety. We followed the pathway under Ravenscraig Castle and some remembered the area from childhood when there was a beautiful beach there and they used to pick a spot by the big wall to sunbathe on their beach towels. Alas, there is no attractive beach there any longer, but still a nice walk with great views across the Forth and even along the coastline. And a couple of wee robins posing on branches just waiting to be admired reminded us that today is the first Sunday in Advent. We had booked lunch at the Harbourmaster's House Bistro at Dysart. We were therefore suitably dismayed when we got there only to find the door locked. So we chapped and rang the bell and keeked in the windows till someone came and explained that the fire alarm had gone off and wouldn't stop ringing. No fire , just the alarm. But H & S regulations meant that they couldn't let us in for our baked tatties. Royal Hotel, here we come. We all had a fine hot bowl of scotch broth, then cakes, scones and a cup of coffee. It was just the biz.
We didn't delay too long though as, even at 3.00pm, the light was changing and the cauld getting caulder. We walked back through Ravenscraig park this time, blethering non-stop as always. After St Clair Street, we went along Commercial Street and through Pathhead village, stopping only briefly to wave to Jenny Walker in her wee hoose.
Those in front were speed-walking along Victoria Road, but had to stop and tie our laces a couple of times to let the auld folk catch up. Up Dunnikier Road and onto Meldrum Road and the end was in sight. Back at the kirk we said our blessing together and thanked each other for the good company we've shared over the last six months on Sunday afternoons. That will be our last walk until January when at least three new people have intimated that they will be joining the group. Until then, enjoy a warm, peaceful, happy time with the folk you love. Christmas blessings to all.

Seafield to Kinghorn

Today we had planned a country walk near Ceres, but as the nichts are fair drawin' in we thought it safer to stay nearer home. We walked instead from Seafield to Kinghorn and back, which is part of the Fife Coastal walk. The forecast once again led us to believe that we were going to be hit with gales and so we wrapped up well as you can see in the photos above, but can you also see the colour of the sky? It turned out to be the most beautiful day - the sun was shining and warm and the sky was so so blue. It felt not at all like November. We started off in pairs but as the path narrowed we formed a single file, each watching the boots of the one in front so that if she didn't slip on the mud then we'll follow her. It was very muddy, in fact treacherous in parts, but we all stayed upright, with difficulty. We stopped a couple of times to take in the beauty of the Forth today, and talk about the seabirds, the boats and the hills across the water. It always amazes me just what we get to talk about on our walks. Our tongues are never still. We share experiences we've had and learn a lot from one another. Whether having fun or supporting each other, this is a lovely way to bond with other adults and we have all come to value the familiarity that we have developed. As we approached Kinghorn our pace quickened as we imagined the buttered scones and coffee waiting for us at Niven's in the High Street. The owners very kindly pulled tables together and we continued our fun and fellowship there. They didn't seem to mind a bit about our clarty footwear. The return walk was every bit as pleasant although when we stopped this time we could feel the temperature had dropped somewhat. And when Joe related a gruesome story about the beauty spot we were taking in, the conversation turned to an airing of diverse views on capital punishment. Moving sharply on then, a little too sharply I may add, as one of us lost her footing and skited on the glaur, but injuring only her dignity. Just as we thought we weren't going to see any, there she was, basking on a rock in the last of the sunlight. One lonesome seal whose pals (according to Joe) were along at the May Isle as this is the mating season. She was named Wallflower.
Back at the carpark we said our Gaelic Blessing together again and exchanged a few witticisms before going our separate ways once more, all feeling peaceful and contented .