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 .