Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Glorious Devon

Seeking a change from damp soggy old Stirlingshire, I decided to visit the land of clotted cream and scrumpy.
Yes, Clackmannanshire. (note to self - check this before publishing)

And, as eny fule kno, Clackmannanshire's major river is the Devon.
So I spent the morning squelching around the Muckhart/Crook of Devon/Rumbling Bridge area. The cloud was right down and it drizzled steadily most of the time - not conditions for the high quality photography for which the blog is renowned.

Here's the Devon

and here's a bridge

and here's another bridge

And that's about it, really. It was depressingly wet underfoot. Despite being on paths or tracks, the mud was calf deep in places.

It was the sort of day where, having soaked in a hot bath and changed into dry clothes, one feels like taking up Joe's invitation.

Henry McCullough seems to be critically ill at the moment. Hang in there, fella.


  1. At your age, you should know better than to take a calf along with you on your rambles. They're not the brightest of creatures at the best of times and combine them with scrumpy....well, you can only guess at the resulting carnage.

    1. Aye, the doctor gave me a sick line and told me to take a wee calf. I think.
      (copyright Francie and Josie circa 1963)

  2. Nice tune that.
    His "Mad Dogs and Englishmen" album has been a firm favourite of late. I'm particularly fond of the version of 'Cry Me a River' - right up there with Aaron Neville's version.

    1. Ah well. Another one on the list for the next vinyl hunt in the garage. Raucous, as I remember.
      Cry me a River will always be Davy Graham for me

  3. Ah well, you've got me there - I shall have to investigate Mr Graham.