Reflections on an Autumn fog

When I set out this morning the air felt cool and the sea reflected a wonderful Autumn light.Autumn has many memories for me including the foggy morning walks on Salisbury Plain as a 12 year old in search of mushrooms. Foggy mornings in Autumn are special and I can remember walking for miles without seeing anyone tying to make out the indestinct shapes ahead of me. In a fog everything seems upside down and confusing. As the morning moved towards midday gradually the sun would break through and images that I had mistakenly thought were one thing turned out to be another thing entirely. As I walked this morning the coolness of the air reminded me of my early walking adventures and how these "foggy" days apply to my life just as much today. Often I am concerned about things that worry me or I wish I had done better. Or perhaps it may be a future concern about things yet to come that I cannot see clearly . My "foggy" morning memories act as a continuous reminder that sometimes we just have to wait until things become clearer and more distinct before taking decisions or being too concerned.
Walking for 10 miles once a week always gives  me time to think about about issues that are  important to me and are on my mind and also gives me  a chance to pray about them. I always return from my journey more trusting  and  certainly less "foggy ".
Today's walk involved  interesting random scarecrows prepared for the Branscombe village fete. I rested by one of them who at first I half mistook for a real person waiting for the bus. The hedgerows were full of late summer butterflies making the most of  the ripest blackberries.
From the woods Buzzards called to each other and the sea shone like silver as middle aged men fished off  the shoreline for mackerel. What a privilege it is to enjoy these Golden hours.

Bothwell to Glasgow-13.2 miles

Leaving Bothwell, it was a grey drizzly morning as I worked my way around the road works. Nipping through traffic queues,crossing many busy roads I made it to Uddingston then on through the wealthy suburbs. Large public parks and small local examples of well loved landscapes were there for all to see. As you near the city  centre you are struck by the number of wonderful public buildings, many of them Georgian or Victorian. The city is bustling and culturally rich. Finding where you are staying in a big city is always a bit of a lottery. I asked some locals if they knew the road I was staying in, but no seemed to be the frequent answer. I found the road a short distance from our encounter,so much for for local knowledge. I have reached journeys end at last and hope God willing to set out again for  for the West Highland Way and The Great Glen Way next year. Hope you can join me on that journey.

Lesmahegow to Bothwell-18 miles

It was a strange start to this morning as I set out on the road. Firstly I expected it to be much brighter than it was. Instead the sky was black with drizzle in a strong westerly breeze. The other thing that was different from my expectations was the distance I would have to walk. I had thought it would be 13 miles and it turned out to be 18. I threaded my way through small villages and was by now on the outskirts of Greater Glasgow which could be seen in the distance from the advantage point of the hills. Down green leafy lanes  I walked to a crossing point that took me over the River Clyde to pick up the Clyde river walkway. This trail follows  the river into the city centre. I was going as far as Bothwell which is 13 miles from the centre. The woodlands were full of Bluebells and in the sandy river bank Sand Martins nested and flew up and the river to catch flies. As I drew near Bothwell I passed Strathclyde Loch where rowers trained and joggers jogged.Geese  by the side of the Loch protected their young and I had to fend one of with my map. I was glad to reach my destination and have a roast lunch and a pint of Guinness.

Abingdon to Lesmahegow - 18.0 miles

Breakfast done I hit the road again for a long day following the cycle route to Lesmahegow. It was a lonely chilly walk a cross the bleak hills, the road spreading out before me and disappearing like a dot on the horizon. It takes a particular mindset to walk this type of road where cars or human company are in short supply. I found myself talking to sheep and ponies who at least made eye contact with me before taking fright and running off. Arriving at Lesmahegow I found a truckers cafe and had  some lunch.

On arrival at my B and B a warm bath soothed my feet and I reflected on my journey.

Beattock to Abingdon- 18.2 miles

You never know what sort of day your going to have when your walking. It was supposed to be a straightforward walk mostly along a cycle way through conifer forests the road gradually rising until you eventually breakthrough the hills and descend to the river Clyde at Crawford. This was going to be my stopping place tonight at the Crawford Arms. When I arrived there the place was locked and a for sale notice was posted on the building. A lorry driver had arrived to take away the cooker and some other stuff. Obviously there was no room in the inn and nobody had let me know. It was time for plan B . After taking some local advice   I headed three miles up the road to Abingdon. There I found a hotel and managed to get a room for the night. It was friendly and comfortable and I was glad to have arrived. Later that evening four elderly men dressed in tartan sang Scottish songs and everyone had a great evening. I reflected on how fortunate I was not to have got my "first choice "accommodation.

Lockerbie to Beattock-14.5 miles

Having drawn back the curtains I could see the day did not look promising. The sky was dark and steady rain was falling. Breakfast however always changes the situation and my mood On top of this, as a bonus the sky was beginning to get brighter. Setting out on the road things changed very quickly and the theme that would be repeated many times would begin to play out. A heavy shower would blow in only for it to stop as soon as I put on my waterproof trousers. This exciting game between the clouds and me happened numerous times throughout the day. It was the long open road again today, easy map reading but hardly stimulating. I was forced to sing to myself on several occasions to cheer my spirits. Time passes of course and the miles are gradually strung together and you eventually come to your destination. I have be more than struck by the friendliness of the Scottish people, kind and helpful.

Tomorrow is a similar day but I know I will see some smiling  people along the way 

Kirkpatrick Fleming to Lockerbie- 12.7 miles

It felt chilly this morning when I awoke as the heating had not yet kicked into life. Despite this I was washed dressed and packed by 8.30 ready for breakfast. A local person then gave me " helpful " advice on the shortest route to reach the road I needed. I checked my map and found it would have added miles to my journey. Easier by car but no good to me where every mile counts. When I joined the road it was straight and seemed to go on forever and reminded me of that scene in North by Northwest where Cary Grant has a meeting with a man who does not turn up and get dusted by a crop duster plane. The only difference was I was not in Indiana, the skies were grey and it was very windy. ( no chance of any crop dusting). I reached Ecclefechan the birthplace of Thomas Carlyle and headed into Lockerbie. My B and B was 2 miles up the road from there. When I arrived no one was about so I opened the door and tried to find someone and make my presence known. I was on my own  so I fell asleep in a chair until they returned from a shopping trip. The place is splendid and friendly so well worth the wait.