Being out in the countryside with my dogs gives me time to think. I’ve learnt the pleasure of solitude without being lonely, and that’s a good feeling for me.
IT WAS only a fortnight ago that I wrote about the Brown Caterthun, one of the two Iron Age forts which lie to the west of Brechin, but I make no apologies for writing so soon afterwards about the White one.
MACBETH POUNCED on what looked like a dead rabbit lying by the roadside. But it uttered two pathetic yowls and turned out to be a kitten, frost covered and frozen, and seemingly at death's door.
DECEMBER 22ND – I walked up the Bishop's Walk, along by Skinner's Burn which runs through the narrow ravine separating Brechin Castle from Brechin Cathedral kirkyard. My ancestor George Whitson was minister of the Cathedral Kirk of Brechin from 1804 –1835.