Decided to get my walking boots dirty today. The weather forecast was bright, mostly dry – where we went, it was dull mostly wet, at least till about 1.00 o’clock. By then we had just passed Broughton and ate our packed lunch – observing the horizontal drizzle, psyching ourselves up for an all-weather walk along the banks of the River Tweed, doing a self-peruasion act to convince ourselves that the exercise would do us good, that rain is only water without which human life is impossible, and trusting the car thermometer which was indicating a bearable 5 degrees – but with no allowance for wind-chill.
So dressed for all weathers – that is three layers of jersey, fleece and a wind and waterproof jacket, (and a seriously ridiculous hat) we succeeded in two or three minutes in getting the walking boots not only dirty, but clarty, slaighered wi’ glaur, ( both Scots terms for impressively muddy!). But we did have a walk, with intermittent slitherings and constant squelchings, along what was probably the recent flood plain. And I believe ( I do, really), that it did us the world of good, that it was healthy despite the chill and drizzle, that the fresh air obliterated all sign of mental cobwebs, that we did more than our 10,000 steps worth of daily exercise – but it wasn’t the pleasant wee dauner (Scots for leisurely walk), we had hoped for, to get us back into walking ways.
Instead it was the kind of walk you do when you have some serious guilt to shift and you believe in more than nominal penance, or if you want to train for the 100 metre dash through a slurry sump – not kidding, we passed a huge shed up on the ridge which was full of happy, noisy, excrementally productive pigs. All that said, the rolling hills, the surrounding woodland, the quiet of the river, the company of a heron, a wren, a kestrel and a bevvy of arguing oytercatchers, a hundred sheep, and of course the pigs, followed by a pot of tea at the 
Laurelbank Tearoom, made for genuine Sabbath – if that word means rest, a halt to productive work, freedom from toil, and time to enjoy what God is doing – then yes, Sabbath. And Aberdeen won!
The photo shows our now annual post-Christmas flower-fest. 
Native to South America, produced now commerically in Holland, they are in our shops from early December. 
