Extraordinary to think that Braemar was one of the warmest places in the UK today when temperatures here barely rose above 7’. Not only that there was a persistent smirring of rain droplets in the air, or so it seemed.
This morning was hair wash day so Jack and I partook of a fast paced walk/jog in order to give me time to dry it properly. I was leading assembly for the S1s today on Autism Awareness and so wanted to have time to dry my hair reasonably straight, and not present as a Chrystal-Tips version of myself. In spite of the clingy mist, I succeeded.
It was one of those desk bound days and so I relished the opportunity to take Jack out again this evening. The haar hung heavy and still. Too still, too quiet. Almost eerie. I caught a glimpse of the sand as we walked by the edge of the golf course and I was momentarily taken aback at how yellow it looked against the gloomy grey which obliterated all sight of the water, revealing only its gentle lapping.
I was reminded that about 100 miles away the sun was probably still warming the soil and good souls of Aberdeenshire. How their mood would be like mine was on Monday.
When L+T were 12 years younger than they are now, we embarked on a 6 mile walk to The Tormaukin in Glendevon, near Dollar. The clouds in Dollar village were so heavy and so dark we questioned whether it was wise to head up into the hills. But we did. It was Boxing Day, we all needed the fresh air and the final destination offered ‘Magic Soup’ ( which gave the girls strength to make the return 6 mile walk ) and refreshing Guinness for the adults. At least 3 families joined forces, so we all had company and the children moved seamlessly between each other and the adults, largely dependent on who had the ‘food parcels’ (sweets).
As soon as we reached the higher road above Castle Campbell we were met with such a bright dazzling blue and soft yellow Winter sun it was as if we had walked into another world. Our spirits lightened, the pace quickened and the realisation that we would be in sun all day, cheered us up and urged us on, in spite of the cold.
Replete with Magic Soup and Guinness, we headed home in the same bright light, although it was fading a little as the shorter Winter days do. When we reached Castle Cottage, we could see that the same heavy clouds that we had long since left behind still hung low – absorbing the village completely. When we met up with a few of those who had stayed behind and regaled them with our adventure, they regretted their decision and moaned about what a dark miserable day they had had.
We smiled: we were up above the clouds – we were in the sun.
Up Above the Clouds – a poem
As the plane climbs higher above the clouds,
the sun bursts into my eyes.
It heralds the breaking of a brand new day
and fills my heart with sighs.
I do not know when I will see you again,
I wonder if I even care,
so think not of what is in my heart
dream only if you dare.
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