Life outside

The light was low when we arrived at the cottage near Dunkeld but there was still enough to illuminate these narcissi. The air is clean and sharp and smells of pine and, with the fire lit, we're soon feeling sleepy.

I'm enjoying a book called First of the Flood given to me by its author, Fred Normandale, a Scarborough fisherman. It's all about life growing up in a small fishing community and it's reminding me how far many of us have come from the hardships of gruelling physical work. It also reminds us of the things we've lost on the journey.

It was a tough life, long-lining baited hooks from a fishing coble. All the bates - mussels or flithers (limpets) had to be gathered from the foreshore then skeined (shelled) by hand and mounted on hooks trailed from the boats.

Fishermen still take out cobles from Scarborough and these days they're earning decent money from crab and lobster fishing since the sea-bed is recovering well from damaged caused by trawling in the past. Not a life for everyone, perhaps, but it's more in touch with the elements than the office cubicle.