Waves and Fishes

For several weeks now, I have been threatening to walk the few miles to the fishmongers in the next village.  It is a beautiful walk along a reincarnated railway line, right beside the Moray Firth.  Finally, a glorious Spring day.  Beautiful sunshine, freezing cold breeze.  Just right for walking.  I slathered on the factor 50 and some layers, put a notebook and pen in the kangaroo pocket of my jacket and reached for the walking boots - which have been sitting in a corner at the front door since January. 

I may not have diamonds on the soles of my shoes, but I do have cobwebs on the soles of my walking boots.  Literally, cobwebs.  As I picked up the boots, a black spider, of the big false eyelash variety, came scuttling out.  High time for both of us to get out more.  Spider first. 

I don’t think there is anything better for getting spiders off your mind, than the scent of sea ozone and the sound of waves booming against a sea wall.  How the sounds change as you walk the path.  The pebbles rock and rolling, like the sea is calling to them, ‘Come away back in’.  ‘Nooooooo!’  ‘Come away back in.’  ‘Nooooooo!’

Then the sea-hush as you walk up through the caravan park where the signs say things like: ‘No wetsuits or roller blades in the toilet block’.

Crossing the wooden bridge, you hear the linnets in the gorse.  Beaming yellow gorse that uplifts your walk with coconutty scent.

Then the shelter of the harbour wall calming the wind.  Made it!

I bought scallops and halibut at the fishmongers.  The woman who served me said she dips halibut in coconut milk, then dredges it in desiccated coconut before frying. 

I believe I must. 

To honour the gorse. 

If you are undaunted by the risk of fishmonger-walk envy, (it’s a thing), then I invite you to scroll down to the photos on this website. Happy Saturday.  https://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/aberdeenshire/banff-whitehills.shtml