A favourite short walk

[jaywalkingdogs]

Despite having stayed in Banff for over two decades I only recently discovered the Bin of Cullen. It has become a favourite. Every time I step onto the track a calmness descends and no matter what has been going on until that point I know I have a couple of phone-free, stress-free hours – not all to myself, however. There are usually a handful of dogs which tag along for a play day with my own Hairy Harry. They buzz around, noses to the ground, sniffing in verges and jumping in burns, leading the way.

Hairy Harry on track

This is my favourite time here, when deciduous bushes can be seen, burnt by autumn, standing solitary among the shady pines, and bracken is crisped orange. One moment your footsteps crunch beech nuts and leaves, the next they are muted by a littering of larch needles.

Burning Bush among the conifers

Rarely, at any season, do we meet anyone in the rabbit warren of well-trodden forestry tracks, even though there could be half a dozen cars parked at the gate. At the cross-roads, after a dook in the burn under the wee bridge, dogs waited patiently for me to decide which track to move off on. Turn right to follow the burn down through the gorge it has gouged out over centuries or, turn left to head towards the summit or, go straight on and catch up with the other end of both these tracks at some point. Today I turned left to head towards the top. Sunshine played in the tips of the trees. Tits and robins chit-chatted somewhere in the bush and the dogs competed for the cones I chucked into the thicket. They didn’t know it was a rouse to keep them close, the last time we walked together two of them went AWOL!

The second decision of the walk was taken at a Y-junction where, if you veer left the track will lead you up above the tree line with views south to Bennachie by Inverurie, Meikle Balloch by Keith, and Ben Rinnes by Dufftown. Then there’s the westerly views along the Moray Coast to Buckie and Lossiemouth, and the northerlies over the water to Caithness. On the other hand heading straight on and veering right leads you down and round to the original crossroads, eventually. Today I veered left but did not go above the tree line. Playing fetch with the dogs had taken more time than I expected. However, today, it was enough to just glimpse, through conifers, those southern hills which hold promise of future excursions.