Bog Myrtle & Peat

The National Park conversation grinds on in Galloway, but an important new piece of evidence points to serious concerns about the consultation process. It brings us back to renewable energy, and the perennial fear that southwest Scotland is becoming a “windfarm dump”. It’s certainly true that this landscape has received an inordinate amount of turbines Continue reading

A salmon rose and sank again in a pool at the old Urr weir. Fallen ash leaves billowed in gales around her body, and the moment passed to the tune of the water’s growling. I was desperate to be sure that my son had seen him too, but he was looking somewhere else – and Continue reading

You can’t stand for long in the sea to the depth of your chest at this time of year. Even for the hope of a bass running inshore with the rising tide, the water’s cold and the moonrise sharp from the darkened land behind you. Cast into the night if you like, but you’ll soon Continue reading

There was a fine hum of excitement at the mart this evening. The No-Parkers had convened a meeting with NatureSCOT to discuss the proposals for a new National Park in Galloway, and it seemed like the silent majority had finally woken up with all the snoozy irritation of a bull too-long-bothered by a cleg. Of Continue reading

Everywhere you look in Khiva, there’s a four-pointed cross like the shape of a bowtie on its side. It seems to crop up on every level surface – the motif is woven into the complex design of madrasahs and boldly embedded in the stonework of mosques and minarets. No opportunity is missed to incorporate this Continue reading

There’s no such thing as uniformity in Uzbekistan’s Kyzyl-Kum desert. The sand is too complex and textured to form pools of continuity, and what seems to be a dirty labrador yellow is more like grey and citric sulphur in a million overlapping shades and shifts of light.  From the top of an ancient fortress at Continue reading

Autumn began with a sense that all was well in the world. Bracken fell upon itself like clockwork; lapwings called in the fatly ripened moon and it was time for everything which had been laid out with such care and expansion to be gently tidied away. With a smell of beechmast and pigeon down in Continue reading

The recent launch of an online “Information Hub” has only served to heighten tensions around the new National Park. We’re told that in-person meetings are coming, but a staggered, multi-platform consultation is inherently confusing. Once you’ve said your piece on the Hub, is there any further need to engage with the consultation? Do online comments Continue reading

The heavy old trains which arrive and depart from the station at Grosmont are a sight to behold. They’re part of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway, powered by coal and the peeped confinement of scalding water. These vintage engines carry people through all the most scenic parts of God’s Own Country, particularly where moorland falls Continue reading

I heard a quail calling from the fields at the head of a Galloway glen. Back in July, I wrote about my encounter on this blog, marking the moment as a first for me. Given that Scotland lies on the outermost limits of a quail’s migratory range, these birds occupy an obscure position in local Continue reading