After lunch we went different ways. Scamp stayed in and did the ironing, and I went a walk along the old railway. It seemed like a good idea as there were occasional breaks in he clouds and the sun was managing to shine through. Everybody and their dog was out walking today and I mean that literally everybody had at least one dog. Some had two, some had three. One woman went over the score and had five or six of the yappy wee things. I must get a dog. Everyone else has one. I hate to be left out (Joke!) I have no intention of saddling myself with a dog, cat, rabbit or budgie. I’ve got Scamp and me and that’s more than enough.
Today’s shots are all of weeds I saw on the walk. To some they are just weeds, but when you look closely, there are so many little details in them that you miss if you see them as ‘just’ weeds It’s that and the shapes they make and the hidden colours in them that I find interesting. Well, they are to me.
There’s a sign halfway along the path I walk explaining that the path follows the route of an old mineral railway which linked various pits and quarries around Kilsyth and Twechar. The sign goes on to explain that the wagons were pulled by little engines called Pugs. I remember my dad telling me about the pugs that pulled the Hutches (small wagons) at the clay mine he worked at quite near Twechar. The sign always reminds me of my dad and his stories and the way he would kind of draw the scene in the air as he was talking Almost like his hand holding an imaginary pencil. Also the way he used to talk. The way he smacked his lips when he was really involved in his story. It’s when I take the time to remember these things that I can see him sitting there telling stories. He was a great story teller.