Crossing the line

November 30, 2020November 30, 2020

Not in a bad way, though I have in my time. And despite the picture this isn’t the end (I hope), just the end of my challenge.

I’ve found writing daily more difficult than I did back in May, so thank you to everyone who’s stopped by. For one thing I’ve pretty much run out of old trips to write about, and further hampered myself by deciding to stop eating cakes etc., so no pretty bakes. And then there was the weather…..

But the sun shone today.

It’s St Andrew’s day*, and I’d hoped to capture a Saltire in the sky, but vapour trails are few and far between at the moment.

So instead here’s one I caught (many years) earlier.

It’s fainter than I remember, perhaps it’s faded over the years? It was taken on the hills near Hawick, where DogS was born, but three months before.

here she is, smaller than a cat, and still wanting to be friends with one**

It’s probably just as well that I’m not writing this on St David’s day***. It would be terrifying to capture a picture of a fire breathing dragon in the sky.

I don’t seem to have a photo of the Welsh flag but you get the idea.

St David’s day is indelibly linked to the scent of leeks for me. At Primary school we would wear national dress, which for the girls meant a tall black felt hat, shawl and apron.

And the boys? Well they would wear leeks, the bigger the better. And then they would eat them, raw, during our Eisteddfod****. I suppose it’s as well that no-one wore real daffodils.

The air outside smells of woodsmoke, the memory of holidays here before it was home. Soon the inside of the house will be scented by pine, and cloves and cinnamon. But tonight it’s the woodsmoke and the scent of a dram.