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"End to End via the Margins"
-the diary of a walk.

- Lauder to Fala

Diary

It was a short day, but with some difficult surfaces;- an old railway (unprepared for walkers), a couple of fields, a farm track and some roadside verge - I didn't fancy walking actually on the A68(T). The farmer where I am staying allowed me to check in early and rest my feet. And (about a comment way back in this diary), told how there is now not much fertiliser made in Britain to be had, and imported fertiliser is inconsistent and hard to apply properly.

Good moments ... Coming over the top of Soutra Hill and seeing the sweep from the Firth of Forth, through Arthur's Seat, round to the Pentland Hills, with snow-capped Highland peaks in the far distance behind - progress again! And the pavement next to the final section of the A68, smooth on the feet, with a wall of deep red sandstone beside it.

Bad moments ... Seeing a lame sheep try to run away from me. "I too have a sore foot, though not as painful as yours: please don't try to run away. I do not want to harm you." And the stock wagon parked on a slope in the layby. The effluent from a number of rather excited livestock was flowing freely out of the back corner and down the tarmac opposite the snack trailer. This was the cause of a lot of conversation around the bacon sandwiches, not much of it complimentary to the driver.

Tomorrow I'm expecting someone to walk with me most of the day. I'm going slow to steward my feet (sometimes people actually overtake me) ... I hope I'll be able to keep up with him.

Pictures from today...
Riding up in that black blob to mend a generator at Dun Law Wind Farm
Distant view of Edinburgh
The far Highlands. Those of you with imagination will see a couple of snow-capped peaks in the sun.
Prayer
God, I am your child,
when I walk fast,
and when I can only walk slow.
We are all your children,
whether we are in our prime of vigour and ability,
or whether we struggle to live.
God help us make our world
fit for all your children,
both the fast and the halting.




© Bob Warwicker. The words here may be reproduced freely, but not for gain, or without attribution. All alterations must have the permission of the author.