Sun, sea and sand? Well, two out of three...

The sky was clear and blue in Aberdeen on Sunday and I was all excited when Gail said that she and her friend Kirsty were taking me for a walk to the Forvie Sands Nature Reserve, just a twenty minute drive up the coast. 

My turn to experience a sunny day at the beach, having missed out last week!

I have to say that, as we proceeded through the dunes, Gail's earlier application of sunblock was looking a tad optimistic.

I was a good boy and stayed the right side of the fence marking the 'no go' area where four species of tern are nesting in the sands at this time of year. 

Gail and Kirsty paused a moment to admire the sharply defined delicacy of the birds swooping overhead, but I soon lost patience with matters ornithological.

After about a mile we reached the deserted beach and I overheard Gail trying to talk herself and Kirsty into believing that the sea fog was in fact a blessing, as it meant we had the place to ourselves and I wouldn't get too hot.

However, I'm not sure she was convinced that my intense interest in decomposing substances on the beach was also a blessing...

August afternoon in Aberdeen...

So that shy stranger the Scottish sun (try woofing that one out loud, pups) finally appears, and for my afternoon walk in the park I am made to wear my lead, an unnecessary precaution I'm sure you'll agree.

I have so totally grown out of chasing after noisy little children with flappy arms and trying to eat their ice-creams.


Anyway, we walk over the bridge to the other, usually child-free side of the river and I gain my freedom.

Now I can hear what you're thinking. "Bertie, how come you are always moaning about the grey and gloomy weather, it looks just lovely, over 20ºC surely".


Er yes, it was. For a couple of hours. One learns to seize the moment.


'Cos you just know, that a cold wet blanket of haar, which the sharp eyed amongst you might have spotted hovering in the background on the river photo, is about to move onshore from the North Sea and pounce on my neighbourhood.

Bye bye sun.

Will ye no come back again?


PS Gail wants me to say a couple more things about the cloudberries which featured in my previous post. Firstly, that we did find more than one! At least half a dozen made it back home and into the dessert, only to be smothered in the whipped cream. And secondly, that in Europe cloudberries are little known outside Scandinavia. In the UK they are restricted to a very few upland localities, where their requirements for moisture (hence 'cloud' berries), acid soil and low temperatures are met.

Haar haar - not funny...

Gail and I have been debating the merits of a well known aspect of summer weather in Aberdeen.

I guess if you want to make something sound better than it is you give it a fancy name. You know, like bin men being environmental hygiene operatives....

So people in the east of Scotland have a special word for coastal fog. The call it 'haar'. 

We had a bad dose of haar when we took our visitors to Dunnottar Castle last week. 

Gail was going on about it all being so atmospheric, the ruined grey stone buildings looming in the swirling mists. 

But I think you can tell that the boys weren't too impressed.

And small wonder. You might remember I went there as a young pup with Gail's friend Helen. On a sunny day.

And Hamish too enjoyed fine weather for his visit. (Click here for his full report).

But talking of mists, oh deary me, Gail is getting all misty eyed looking at those pictures of Hamish. I'd better stop right now, and go and give her a lick and a cuddle.