A pep talk from Bertie

Advice in Verse

(especially applicable to those enduring the Scottish summer...)

Why fret about the wet?
Don't be cowed by too much cloud.
There is much to gain from lots of rain,
Why fret about the wet?

Don't grizzle when there's drizzle,
And if it's dreich, stand tall, look chic!
When skies are grey, go out to play,
Don't grizzle when there's drizzle.

A blizzard can be wizard!
And ice is rather nice.
In heavy snows, just wear warm clothes,
A blizzard can be wizard!

There is no doubt, we won't have drought.
Evapo-transpiration's low in this location.
Enjoy walkies through mud when everywhere's humid.
There is no doubt, we won't have drought.

Yes, why fret about the wet?

Romping in the Aberdeenshire hills

Are we too late for the LLB Gang's Nature Friday?

You won't believe this but today we actually had sunshine almost all day!

And it was even (sort of) warm...

In Scotland one learns to seize the moment, and so Gail took me for a long walk in the hills. We did the Pressendye circuit - nine miles, and wonderful views the whole way round.

It rather goes against my principles, but Gail is insisting that for once I let the pictures do the talking...

 

 

Happy Nature Friday friends!

Not necessarily a compliment...

Did Shakespeare get it wrong?

I mean, to say:

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

Is not necessarily a compliment in Northern Britain.

Hmm. The delights of July in Torridon. (And I haven't even mentioned the midges yet.)

You know what? I think I'll stay indoors...

Seize the day (or at least the sausage roll)

Friends, I know that many, perhaps all, of you live in places where the summers are warmer than ours here in Aberdeen.

And maybe you will think I am taking the 'cup half full' thing a bit far when I say that there are advantages to living in a city where hot days are rarer than icebergs at the Equator. But please bear with me.

The thing is, if we do, by some fluke of the jet stream or whatever, actually experience properly warm weather, all normal rules of behaviour are suspended for the duration, and this can be to a pup's advantage.

Take last night. Most unusually, it was still over 20ºC when Gail and I went for a late evening walk around the harbour mouth area.

We were not alone.

Other dog walkers, golfers, frisbee throwers, photographers hoping for sight of a dolphin, kids bravely venturing into the always frigid North Sea, cyclists, joggers, Polish workers from the fish processing factory relaxing with a beer, students tending a barbecue…. you name it, they were out there enjoying the (relatively) balmy conditions.

And I am pleased to report that one group of giggly girls were not paying attention to their half eaten picnic on the wee beach by the harbour wall. So I decided to help them out (don't you just hate food going to waste?) And I must say those sausage rolls were most delicious.

The giggly girls just giggled some more at the sight of this happy wire-haired fox terrier licking flaky pasty from his beard, as Gail tried unconvincingly to reprimand me, while herself failing to suppress a smile.

Although Gail did not see fit to record this particular episode on camera, she did take some other photos on our walk, and I hope these will give you a flavour of our one day of Aberdeen summer.

(You will just have to imagine the flavour of the sausage roll.)

My little patch of heaven?

ODE TO A DEESIDE SUMMER

You can take your Costa Bravas, the Greek Islands are all yours,

The Italian Riviera's not for me,

I'd rather be in Deeside where the ground beneath my paws,

Is soft and green, and clear the river flows,

And the air conditioning's natural and free.

The Balearics are too crowded, and Australia far away,

And California's sun has too much glare.  

But a little patch of heaven's a short bounce from where I stay,

Where the only sound is birdsong on a gentle summer's day

And a sweet pine resin fragrance fills the air. 

If you're searching scorching sunshine and a Mediterranean tan,

Then I'll point you to cheap flights on EasyJet.

But for dogs, a trip to Scotland is by far the better plan,

We have laws that grant you access to our wild and empty land. 

Come here! Roam free! All weary cares forget!   

That short precious while

You who live in sunny climes
Might think you have the best of times;
I beg to disagree.

If every day the skies are blue,
No clouds obscure the dazzling view,
There’s scant variety.

You’ll never feel the deep delight,
When dour grey turns to dazzling bright
For a short precious while.

The sense that duties, cares and grief
Can be forgot. And to the beach,
To run and bounce and smile!

(Verse inspired by an outing to St Combs, near Fraserburgh in the very far NE of Scotland, last Sunday.)

P.S. Bouncing Bertie Boffin here: Please do look out for my post on Thursday, when I shall be announcing a brand new and exciting science-related competition. Oh. Gail is disputing my description here, saying any connection with science is "tenuous at best". It is rather, (she claims),  "yet another invitation to all your doggie friends to poke fun in public at their human carers". I bet you can't wait...

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.