In spite of a flurry of snow on Monday morning and a black out throughout Tuesday and part of yesterday the seasons are on the change. A sparrow sang to me from the guttering when I went to take the compost out and the pink knobbles of our rhubarb crowns are poking up through the dark earth. One of the cuttings my Dad and I took from the fruit bushes in the autumn has proudly unfurled a single green leaf.
At the weekend we headed to the coast where we flew our kite and clambered over rock pools in view of the majestic ruins of Tantallon Castle. Tantallon was the seat of the Earls of Douglas, one of the most powerful baronial families in Scotland. It doesn’t look much now but in its heyday a mighty curtain wall protected the inhabitants from the landward side and the pounding sea saw off intruders in every other direction.
In the end we were chased from the beach by the approaching squall you can see in the picture above, but not before we’d felt the sun on our faces and dipped our toes in the sea.
