Remains of the Sea Monster

 I have a penchant for trolling along sea fronts; it's amazing the stuff that Neptune refuses to harbour within his watery domain and chucks back onto the land.

But even I was surprised when I came upon this carcass (which I duly named: "Remains of the Sea Monster") lying - seemingly hugging a rock - quite far up the beach at Blackness in West Lothian.

It looked to me like some kind of sea monster. But, after further research, it seems it might just be the skeleton of a flatfish: Flounder, Plaice or Dab - though I've never heard of a 'Dab' fish. They're apparently common in the forth estuary.

The anglers who read this piece will doubtless know.

Anyway, I thought I'd share.

Bit of a walk???

 St. Tropez? Bit of a walk, right enough, but would be well worth it in the end, No?

Joking aside, this is what I believe the guid folks of Blackness call the ‘Whimsy Stone’, and it’s a legend around those parts.

No one seems to know when or why it was carved. It sits against the road as you enter the village and it seems to have been so placed as a joke.

There is no official record of any ‘twinning’ with St. Tropez on the French Cote d’Azure and, in any case, the mileage is wrong.

It is a popular local attraction though, and much photographed by visitors. Those visitors might also note that there is a sign of the Old Hotel (now the excellent ‘Lobster Pot’ restaurant) that confirms the villages twinning with St. Tropez.

Strathbrock Parish Church

 It's almost two years, now, since I took the camera for a walk around this little church which lies nestled in the heart of Broxburn, West Lothian.

I've passed the church entrance way loads of times over the years; always noting it with a quick glance as I drove by. Then, having newly retired from work, and with a little time on my hands, I decided to visit.

It's a small Church: robust and staunch looking in its square frame stonework. The doors were locked and there was no one around - there were a couple of cars in the car park, but they may have been dog walkers who had journeyed further on.

The graveyard is very extensive for a small church. One of the graves is marked for a David Hamilton who was laid to rest in 1773. The church building has, I believe, gone through a few constructions - possibly having its beginnings in a wooden building in the 7th Century. The first stone church in the parish dates back to the 12th Century.

Its well worth a visit.

Blackness Sunset.

 I captured these images many, many moons ago.

They are among my own favourite images: I can still recall how warm the air was that night; remember the texture of the skies and how they changed - minute by minute as the sun slid from the sky.

With luck, I'll be able to capture similar images as autumn arrives, once again.

Tiled composite.

The European Pasqueflower

 This amazing little flower is growing plentifully in different areas of our garden.

We didn't move into this house until August last year, so we missed watching Spring work its magic. This year though, we've delighted in the incredible volume of different flora which we have thriving around us.

Not a gardener by any means, I also grew some seeds in the greenhouse and I've planted them out in different areas. All of them being hardy annual flowering plants, I'm looking forward to a colourful display over the summer months.

This is the European Pasqueflower. I took one flower head to my garage studio and did these still life's on my older 5D classic.

I hope you enjoy them.

Linlithgow's Church & Palace.

While June (my wife) had coffee with a friend in one of Linlithgow's many tea / coffee houses, I decided to take the camera for a walk through some of the back streets. But, as inevitability would have it, I ended up strolling down to the Palace.

The entrance fee was £8 and, while that was a fair ask in order to appreciate the architecture, read some of the history and, generally, soak up the ambiance which has been infused into the walls over centuries, it was not such a good experience for my camera: steel barricades, scaffolding and posters severely negated the ancient buildings photogenic potential and left me a good deal under-whelmed.

All was not lost though; I got a few shots worth processing. But, the best aspect of the day took place once I'd left the Palace and started down the narrow Kirkgate path towards the High Street.

Being a bit of a Taphophile I had hoped to gain entrance to the cemetery which adjoins St. Michaels but, disappointingly, that was closed. However, while I was setting up for a shot (see below) I was approached (rather slowly, as he walked with a decided limp) by an elderly gentleman who stopped to ask how my 'shooting' was going. He was a 'tog (photographer) himself, armed with a very skinny looking tripod atop of which was attached what looked like an early version of the Canon Powershot compact models. He said he liked my camera; that he had a DSLR of his own back home, but that he just found it too heavy to carry with him these days.

We got talking, and he informed me that he had come through to Linlithgow by train from Glasgow that morning (it was now mid afternoon). He had walked around the loch and palace and was now on his way to the Canal Centre before heading on back to the railway station. I was very impressed with his enthusiasm; I mean, the lad had a really painful looking gait to his walk, rolling his hips with each step forward.

We continued to chat while walking together along the Kirkgate, until he changed tack and hobbled off on another course. As I walked on, I saw him set his tripod down in front of the imposing statue of John Hope - known locally as 'The Green Man'.

I trust he captured a good crop of images from his trip out of Glasgow, a few of my own are shown below.

 Lovely day yesterday; knowing the early morning sun would fall perfectly on Linlithgow Palace I took the camera out for a walk ... only to discover that - without my permission - someone erected a scaffold over the North facing facade

Almondell Country Park

 The fresh air does you good and, just occasionally, I get a real hankering to to take the cameras for a walk in a place I know will be pretty much person-free - dog walkers excluded.

Almondell Country Park is just such a location: right on my doorstep, it offers slight rises and dips, a long path which pretty much follows the river, and a welcomed, conspicuous quietude which lends the soul time - and space - to simply ponder what is happening in your world; the picturesque scenery is just a much welcomed extra.

I didn't take a lot of pictures, but I did enjoy the walk. Here's a couple of captures that I did keep.