High Water at Net Bay

The new main photo gives an idea of how much higher the loch is since the recent storms and heavy rainfall. Today however has been bright and clear with the temperature barely rising above freezing all day. Winter at last and nobody minds on days like today when everything is fresh and sharp.

There was a rosy tinge to the mountains this morning - those without the topping of snow that is - with dark reflections in the water.

The storms also brought a new sight in the bay. A mooring had obviously come adrift from one of the marinas and drifted into the shallows. It can just be seen in this photo with a bit of a list!

Welly and waterproof weather!

I know, I know, we haven't seen much blue sky over the past month - just lots and lots of rain. The loch is really high again - up to the seat at the viewpoint - and looking across from the high point on Ross Loan to where the Endrick flows into the loch, Ring Point (the thin strip of land between the river and the loch) is completely submerged. There is water in the fields all round Wards and the garden is sodden.

Roads have been flooded in all directions and a few nights ago I just missed running over a frog who was in his element as he hopped across a road that was running like a stream. Most days however, it has been possible to dodge the showers although on occasions Rosie and I have both come back from the daily walk absolutely drenched. With the skies so overcast it is also the lack of light that is noticeable. It was dark by half past three one day this week. However, the walk through Shore Wood is more open and airy in winter than in summer as the bare branches allow much more light through.

Although it feels as though the full force of winter has yet to strike, with fairly mild temperatures and very little frost so far, ironically the first signs of Spring are appearing. On the walk to the loch, the pale green spikes of the snowdrops are beginning to burst through and some of the daffodils are also beginning to show. They must be encouraged by the mild weather but no doubt growth will slow again once the really cold weather comes.

First Frost

It was a bright crisp morning and the fields all around were sparkling white when I drew back the curtains this morning. Definitely no time to lose to make sure we were down to the loch before the sun had melted the ice and dissipated the magic.

Wrapped up warmly with hat and gloves for the first time this winter and set off briskly. We were rewarded with a sight of the the first sprinkling of snow on Ben Lomond and the Arrochar Alps. The loch was calm and clear with geese honking, swans on the far side of Net Bay and a solitary heron fishing patiently over on Ring Point.

We decided to make our way to the Endrick Viewpoint further up the hill which is where this first picture was taken. The frost had not been hard enough to freeze the ground and it was pretty heavy going after all the rain and the trampling from the cattle. But by stepping carefully from tussock to tussock we managed not to lose a shoe. It would have been easier if we were in wellingtons. I managed with much less difficulty when I did the same walk last week more suitably clad. The gate was still glistening with ice crystals on the way up which had started to melt by the time we had squelched our way back down again.

The afternoon was spent collecting leaves for the compost. Even piled up wet and soggy in the wheelbarrow the colours were glowing. It really has been a wonderfully colourful Autumn this year.

A fantastic autumn day

Up early this morning and down to the loch at first light. There was a mist rising from the loch and the fields and wisps of cloud lingering in some of the glens. It was a truly magical morning and the light has been wonderful all day.

The woods are full of spiders that I've never seen but their presence can be felt by the fine filaments that brush against your face as you walk along the path. I imagine them as minute trapeze artists swinging from tree to tree only have their safety harnesses swept away as I walk through. The cold night had produced a touch of frost and heavy dew so there was clearer evidence of the spiders' activities this morning in the delicate webs,

What a difference a day makes

From this -----------------------------------------------------------to this

in less than twenty four hours.

Friday night saw the wind getting up - so much so that one huge gust hit the gable end with such force that it woke us up. Unusually, this wind did not blow itself out in twelve hours but continued throughout Saturday. It was exhilirating walking through the woods and by the loch. Squalls of rain kept blowing over from the West with rainbows arching over the islands. I've seen the loch choppy before but never seen such spectacular waves rolling in. In the distance a fuzzy grey line between the water line and the shore indicated where the spray was being whipped from the tops of the waves. And the roaring of the wind in the treetops meant that it was almost impossible to carry out a conversation.

All along the path there were leaves, twigs and branches that had been blown down. As far as I could see there had been no major casualties but plenty of branches for Rosie to get her teeth into.

Today was much calmer although there were still a few ripples on the water and the occasional white horse. The sky was blue and the birds were singing again - the turmoil of yesterday already forgotten.

Fly Agaric

Here is every child's image of a toadstool - the classic red with white spots. We have had lots of fly agaric on the garden this year and they reminded me of a poem my Mum used to recite to us as children - The Elf and the Dormouse by Oliver Herford, an American poet of the early twentieth century.

Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain to shelter himself.

Under the toadstool, sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap.

Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and yet
Fearing to fly away lest he get wet.

To the next shelter—maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile.

Tugged till the toadstool toppled in two.
Holding it over him, gaily he flew.

Soon he was safe home, dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse—"Good gracious me!

"Where is my toadstool?" loud he lamented.
—And that's how umbrellas first were invented.

I am reminded of this little rhyme every time I see the large toadstools that have sprung up all over the garden this year.

An early Autumn

Just a quick post - there's a lot happening and not much time for blogging.

The walk in the woods is getting wetter with the loch level really high for this time of year. The beaches have practically disappeared - much to Rosie's displeasure - and some of the trees already have their feet in water.

After weeks of seemingly unremitting rain there are occasional glimmers. I caught this pool of light on a walk last week. I love the spicy

smells of Autumn and the changing colours. The bracken is turning brown now and will soon be flattened by the winds and storms.

There are also signs of the swallows preparing to leave - lining up on the wires and taking part in spectacular feeding frenzies as they swoop and dive for insects. It's either that or they are in training for the marathon flight ahead.