Another longer run yesterday. This time revisiting the Traquair side of the Bold Burn . "The sun shone and then it rained" was on a repeat loop. Rising to around 400 metres at Plora Craig, the road levelled out and I enjoyed again those panoramic views to north and east.
My memories of this stretch have included:
A disproportionate joy in seeing a red squirrel;
A hobbling frustration at having pulled a calf muscle;
Sharing small, pleasant greetings with passing bikers;
Fear and exhilaration when running for home, through a larch plantation near the Bold Rig in a thunder storm (should I chuck my watch away or not, I wondered - it being the only metal object I was wearing. Apart from my fillings);
And the memory of lingering many times at the long avenue of tall spruce trees below Plora Rig. Echoing in my fancy the Sequoia Avenue at Benmore.
I`ve marked the place with a cross on the map.
As I ran I began to realise that the Avenue was gone; acres and acres of trees were now stumps, leaving fields of stubble. Harvested like a crop of turnips. Like a personality had been erased taking my bearings with them. Home to deer and badgers and foxes and all the smaller creatures. Shade and contemplative corner for me. Like a duvet had been pulled off someone`s bed.
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