THERE WAS a full moon last Saturday, a harvest moon appropriately, almost bright enough to read my Courier by. The Doyenne and I were driving home from a piano recital in Aboyne and we stopped for a moment on the summit of Cairn o’ Mount. The vapour trail of a south-bound jet was illuminated in the moonlight, etched against the clear, sable sky, a raggedy ribbon that was soon lost in the vastness of the aether.
THE CATERTHUNS are two Iron Age forts on two prominent hill tops on the ridge of hills north-west of Brechin, overlooking the glens of Angus. As with most things from that period there are conflicting theories about their actual age, their construction and their use.
I’LL BEGIN this week’s piece with an update on our butterflies which have been putting on a colourful show and providing a great deal of pleasure.
THE DOYENNE and I support Scottish agriculture. We eat steaks and roasts from good Scottish beef, legs of lamb and lamb chops, rolled shoulder of pork and pork chops too. We’re fond of chicken and at Christmas eat turkey, or Scottish buffalo if we are visiting our daughter.