More farewells than Sinatra ...

Ok: I'll 'fess up. I pinched that joke from Mr PB, who used the idea of Sinatra's protracted farewell to the stage to highlight how often we think we're seeing the last of autumnal glory and then find more. We're not long in from the first afternoon walk to end as the sun goes down, leaving us in the dusk of a winter afternoon - a time when I realise how badly it affects me living here, in a way it never did when I lived in Glasgow. Of course there's more than I can remember  to cast down our spirits this year, which is why I'm more determined than ever to get out in daylight and not kid myself that an afternoon rootling through old photos in the loft is a suitable substitute. So while I'm likely to post more of my family's past on here in the future, today's a wee homage to the beauty out there.

This particular bit of woodland adjoins Knockdow House, now owned by a Russian who has done a great deal of renovation of the grounds but not ventured down into the gully of the Ardyne Burn. In summer it's not a very special place, but this afternoon despite the lack of sun it seemed lit up like a stage by its own colours. We walked back along the road past the farms as clouds massed over Bute threatened to cross the water and soak us, but the rain didn't come on until we were driving home. Buzzards circled overhead, and the cows that until recently were red and white dots on the green of the hillside were making a mournful racket from inside a shed. Water gurgled along the ditches and in several places across the road - the recent resurfacing seems to have destroyed what drainage there was.

I have to say that I've hugely enjoyed the interest, both here and on Facebook, in my family photos - and in the Lost Glasgow Group on Facebook there's a strange argument going on about how the word "Quali" should be spelled. I've given up - what I have written, etc ...

I think I'll add another photo of the wonderful beech hedges and trees along the road we'd been walking ...