Canalside

Yesterday's weather was depressing and I was dispirited, but today the sun is out in strength and sheltered from the cool breeze it was almost, but not quite, balmy as we strolled along the canal this morning.

The air is still a tad chilly now, as I sit on the patio in my sunglasses and winter fleece, but hey, the buds on the trees are loving the change in temperature and are providing us with a froth of the palest green in front of the house.
The cherry trees lining the many paths in the Meadows have still to declare themselves, and so it looks like I will miss their showy pink blossom this year; it will all be over by the time we return from holiday.

We had an evening out last night at the Story Telling centre in the High Street, when a wire clarsach player, a wooden pipe player/story teller, and a singer regaled us with songs and stories collected from bygone rural Perthshire by Lady Evelyn Stewart Murray, the youngest daughter of the 7th Earl of Atholl.
Some of the songs were in Gaelic, some in English and the stories were heavily weighted with fairies and the little people.
I have to think that perhaps whisky featured heavily in the lives of country folk back then.