Children need routine and my 3 year old boy is no different.
It took a fair amount of effort to persuade him that our weekly adventure should
go somewhere different to last week’s outing to the treehouses of Abriachan. I
used some psychology along with the words ‘woods, beach and fire’ in quick
succession and had him hooked and we were off for Culbin forest in the grey
morning.
We bundled into warm
clothing and set off along the wide paths towards Tower 99 which was to be the
big draw for the day. He made good pace, only halting occasionally to pick up
something familiar from previous walks. ‘Old man’s beard!’ he yelled in triumph
holding up a branch that was bigger than him festooned with moss. A few wobbly
moments followed as he tired and then when I refused to pick up a massive pile
of stones ‘for the big tower’ he descended into a wailing cry with some proper
tears. I scooped him up while surruptiously dropping the stones and licked the
tears from his face..’These ones on the left taste nice but the ones on the
right are rubbish.’ It did not work and I left him bawling in a wee sandy hole
next to the path. I got myself out of sight , crouched down and and waited and
predictably he sprinted up the path and into my arms. Instantly better.
We reached the tower and climbed it nervously. My vertigo
reached new heights as I scanned the slatted wood for small boy sized gaps and
gripped him tight. He did not seem to like it much either as the wind bit down
from the north and we headed down after some lip service to the views out as
far as Caithness.
At the base of the tower the year had moved on from winter.
The red trunks of the Scots pines threw
out some dappled light and meagre warmth so we huddled close on the bench to
drink our flask and eat muffin treasure from the picnic box. His face looked
back at me, framed with a flapped hat and lined with tears and chocolate and a
challenge in his eye. ‘Are you enjoying this?’ I said fearfully. ‘Yes.’ Time to
head to the beach, then.
We wandered off down a steep dune in the firm direction of
the sea. He walked for a further half mile before he began to trail behind and
held his arms up. By then, the wee legs had done nearly 2 miles and I could not
say no so I swung him up on my shoulders and we jogged down to the edge of the
water. As we stepped out from the margin of the forest the north wind picked us
out. He looked up and said ’This is a
cold place.’ No fooling him today, this emerging outdoorsman. We turned quickly
and found a sandy spot in the shelter of the great pines which line the shore.
I scooped away the needles to make a fire pit and we construct a small pile of
twigs, paper and one hidden firelighter to create the magic in front of his
eyes. I thought it best to obey his mum’s instructions and prevent him from
seeing the actual act in case he decided to replicate it in the living room so
I distracted him with some pine cone gathering as I applied the match. The fire
got going quickly and raised a pall of
smoke high in the pines. I could picture
a forestry commission swot team descending on me with beaters so I bottled it
and smothered the fire quickly. We tidied the pit, packed and headed back to
the car with a satisfying smoky flavour clinging to us.
We sped the journey up with joint Gruffalo recitals and
some walks and some carrys get us back to the car with a sense of a day seized
and a mission accomplished.
Culbin’s aura of peace lingered on us for
the rest of the day along with a faint, sweet smell of wood smoke.At the tower the seats carry a poem which summed up our day.
Hill 99
I stood one
day upon the hill
And felt my
shadow wheel full circle
I stood one
day upon the hill
And saw the
heather turn to purple
I stood one
day upon the hill
And smelt
the tang of marsh and sea
I stood one
day upon the hill
And knew my
soul returned to me
I stood one
day upon the hill
And heard
the coast birds pipe and call
I stood one
day upon the hill
And dreamed
of sailors in a squall
I stood one
day upon the hill
And felt my
gritted teeth bite the sand
I stand this
day upon the hill
Knowing my
heart rooted in this land
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