A KIRK HILLWALK FOR ALL SEASONS.

A brilliant blue sky day in October was just the thing for our walk this month. Organised by Agnes, we were instructed to be at Kirkhill Community Centre for an 1100 start. Remarkably, Agnes was there waiting for us when we arrived, along with Hugh and Pam. So, it was a small, but perfectly formed group that was ready to stride out in the sunshine.

Now, you might think that Kirkhill was so called because it has a famous church - Wardlaw Mausoleum - and it is at the top of a hill. However, the mausoleum was always that and not a church at all. The Gaelic name for the village is Cnoc Mhoire, which simply means Big Hill. Now, the Mausoleum sits at the highest point on the shore side of the old A9 hereabouts. Having said that, we are only talking about 62 metres above sea level. Not exactly a big hill in the Highlands. The parish church also sits on the hill, just a bit to the south of the mausoleum. With the church on the hill you might expect the Gaelic name to reflect that - Cnoc na h-Eaglais - but it doesn't. I have been unable to find out why?

It is at times like this when I start a blog and then can't find anything useful, that I wish I had just got on with describing the walk. You're probably thinking the same thing!

Here we are ready to follow our leader wherever she may take us.

It being October, there are pumkins everywhere and here are some of them.

Kirkhill does seem a little confused as to the time of year as the Christmas decorations are hanging from the lamp posts. Now, either they are up really early, or they were never taken down from last year.

With the extent of blue sky, it could be Spring or summer. A walk for all seasons in prospect.

There was even Snow, well snowberry.

We were going downhill, some would say that has been going on for a while.

You can just about see the main group away in front of me.

This has nothing to do with my knees, but I spent ages taking photos of other berries, crows and contrails!

Hawthorn.

You must never take Hawthorn into your house! To do so meant that illness and death would soon follow. Indeed, people in Mediaeval times thought that Hawthorn smelled like The Plague. Scientists discovered that trimethylamine which forms in hawthorn blossom is one of the first chemicals that forms in decaying animal flesh - so it does smell like death. Just the thing for Halloween!

Twa craws sat on a wire. 

Although both of the birds' feet touch the wire, seeming to complete a circuit that would lead to electrocution, they are safe from frying. Electricity voltage is not dangerous, it is the flow of current through the body that makes it worth avoiding. You (or a bird) need to act as a bridge between two different voltages or between one voltage and the ground. That is why smaller birds are OK, but bigger birds and people are more at risk. They are more likely to touch a second live wire or a pole or pylon that is grounded.

Of course, you shouldn't be up that high on a wire in any event.

I liked the mirroring of the high voltage lines with the contrail of the aircraft going to who knows where? The other thing about contrails from jets is that these are a type of cloud; but they are a cloud that can only have been seen by people who have been alive in the last 80 years!

A trio of holly berries stuck on some rusty barbed wire. You will know all about barbed wire from previous blogs! However, did these berries really fall and get stuck on the wire, or did someone put them there? Does it matter?

There was another, single berry skewered by the barb. Unfortunately, the photo was not very sharp, but I struggle to believe this was not the result of some kind of intervention.

Looking to the mountains in the west. I do wish I was able to recognise mountains, but I haven't a clue which peak is which, or even what range of hills this is! I did try AI, but it turns out its intelligence was either artificial or it was too intelligent for me. I gave up before I had a complete meltdown!

Now, I'm pretty sure that Hugh was pointing out something interesting and he was not supporting some far off age that we should hanker after.

We were now walking along beside the old A9 and much of the road verge was in shadow. So much so that there was still frost on the leaves.

Winter is coming, John Snow!

Winter might well be on the way, but there was plenty autumn colour about and signs of burning. Was it smoke signals, a bonfire, a sacrificial fire, a barbecue, charcoal making, or just someone burning leaves in the garden?

What can be so interesting over the gate?

A girl on a pony, is the answer. The pony seemed to find us interesting as well.

By a remarkable coincidence, Sharon used to have a horse, which was kept at a yard called Conkies, and just opposite the gate were conkers on the ground. A tenuous link, but, sometimes, needs must.

The photo reminded me that I still have some of these conkers in the pocket of the jacket I was wearing. I wonder if any of our grandchildren have ever played conkers?

Just beyond the stables, was this long abandoned bus stop. It looks like a long time since the pony express stopped here. Of course, it was once on the Trunk Road!

Continuing on the horsey theme, we came across this hitching rail, where Clint probably tied his horse before gunning down the baddies.

Alternatively, it was for tying the bins to to prevent them being blown away.

The stark ribs of the barn just caught my eye, standing stark against the lovely scene behind.

Our leader was taking us round in a circle to get us back up to Kirkhill. It turns out that she was also getting us a bit off our route. It was enough to send one berserk, like this Viking. He was at least the second berserker we have seen on walks!

If in doubt, consult a map, even if it is one on somebody else's phone.

It was easy to recognise this road. We had walked down it about 5 minutes ago!

Once we got off the road, we were going through some mixed woodland, which was nice.

We were beginning to feel a bit weak from hunger by now. Luckily, there was a castle nearby, which is just the sort of establishment we are accustomed to.

It turned out that we were not getting into the castle, we were having lunch in the woods.

Most people stood and ate their various sandwiches, but not Hugh and I. I do feel it is only good manners to sit for luncheon. Standing is quite acceptable for a cocktail party, but never luncheon.

As I sat there insouciantly feeling the peace of the woods soak into my soul, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, one of the trees blowing me a kiss!

How lovely was that?

Certainly more lovely than Hugh's interpretation of this trunk. I cannot repeat what he said for fear of offending the more genteel reader.

Someone did walk past us. Slowly. Casting a suspicious eye towards us. Pam suggested that they might think we were a terrorist cell training in the woods. I feel that is the least likely conclusion they might have jumped to!

Had we been prepared to wait a few moments, we would have found some nice seats for us all to have a proper lunch.

Notwithstanding that we already had our lunch, some of us could not resist the urge to sit on the best seats in the woods.

Our first glimpse of Achnagairn Castle, which isn't really a castle.

Achnagairn House (not Castle) was owned by the Fraser family. This house dates from about 1800, although there is thought to have been a house here for at least 400 years. There is a date stone in side the house dating to 1663. The current house was significantly altered in the early 20th Century in the Arts and Crafts style.

 

It is nowadays used for functions and weddings and you can see the attractions.

Indeed, we should have paid more attention to the ballroom on the side elevation as we walked away. It was gifted by the owner to his daughter for her wedding in the early years of the 20th century. Not your average dinner service then.

Maureen entered into the spirit of the place and scattered confetti on the blushing dinosaurs.

These wickerwork animals were the only real (well, not really real) wildlife we saw on the walk.

It is a fairly short step up to the village. This is the fairly plain, but attractive parish church which was built in 1790 and refurbished in the 19th Century. The two doors are a little unusual. The whole building is said to have been adapted from the pans of another church - that at Dyke near Forres.

Just along the road, somebody had been drawing on the fence. Even douce little Kirkhill is not immune from graffiti!

That was us just about finished the walk and we were feted by these astonishingly bright and almost artificial looking leaves of Virginia Creeper. As you might expect this plant comes from North America and can be found in Virginia. That is not the whole story of the name, though. The Latin is Parthenocissus, meaning maiden or virgin. Having said that, it is a very rampant and invasive species.

Once at the cars, it was off to The Priory in Beauly for tea and cakes.

Luckily there was enough citrus drizzle cake left for me!

We really had an excellent walk with lots of interest, so, many thanks to Agnes for organising the walk and tea and cakes. 

The next walks will be during our away trip to Estate of Ord.