Some days are just plain awesome.

Do you ever have a day when you can think of a few good reasons/excuses to get out of something that will take a fair bit of effort on your part but you ignore that lazy voice in your head, go do it and then have a truly memorable day? Well, today was such a day for me.

Yvonne and I met up with Michael Marten and Mike Colechin again today to continue walking in the Cairngorms. It had snowed already that day and the wind was getting up. Yvonne and I wondered if heading up onto Carn Liath (2,828 ft) was wise on such a cold and windy day, especially after Mike and Michael had spent the night camping. Everybody was keen, so after a quick cuppa and some of Yvonne's freshly baked cheese scones, we headed off.

The first stage of the walk is just a fairly boring landrover track up the south side of the hill. 

As we got further up, there were a few snow showers and the wind started to pick up. When we crested the shoulder and headed for the top, we were now heading north and getting the full force of the chilly wind and the spindrift on our faces.

When we got to the top, any plans we had about having lunch were forgotten about and after a photo or two, it was decided to head across the top of the hill and eventually drop down into the shelter of a forest.

It was a great day which challenged us all in different ways. 

In this blog I have written about overcoming doubts and fear in relation to art  before and it occurred to me today that some of the greatest rewards will come to you if you push yourself, force yourself out of your comfort zone and try it. It may not work out but you can learn from the experience and congratulate yourself for making the effort. 

I am nothing but a transient soul in a white Opel Manta

(For those not familiar with the North East of Scotland, stick with it.)

This morning I went on a course in Banchory. Then I had to go to work in Huntly. The most direct route I felt was to go over the Sluie Hill (or is it Suie Hill?) to Clatt and onwards.

There is car park and a great view at the top of Sluie Hill, so I stopped to eat my lunch. As I sat there I remembered a photograph I took at the the same car park, around about 1982, which showed my late father Jimmy, my mother Catherine and my future wife Yvonne admiring the same view I was enjoying eating my lunch. We were on route from Buckie to Banchory to meet up with my sister for some get together - maybe for Chris Barber jazz band concert? Or maybe it was Christmas time, I can't remember now.

The memory of that picture brought a smile to my face, not only because the frame of the picture was filled with my new white Opel Manta and everybody else squeezed to the left! No, more than that, it was because my father was to die of cancer only a couple of years later and it was one of those simple decisions to just stop and admire the view. We did, and I captured a wee moment in time which I now cherish. 

My father has gone. My mum remarried and found happiness again. My sister lives in Aberdeen and we see her as much as we can. I have been happily married to Yvonne since 1986. That is part of my story. It is just a puff of wind on a heather branch.

When I had a look at the photo tonight, I thought you could remove the car and the people and the view would look almost exactly the same. The land endures and has the biggest and best stories. We are just transient souls on this amazing planet who need to take more time out for ourselves, for our loved ones and for our planet. ( I know, all that from a wee photo!)


Here's the photograph:

Where the Manta went to I've no idea. :-)

(Oh, by the way, to the left was parked my dad's green Hillman Avenger. You'll understand why that was not included in the picture!)