Woodlands...

....Nancy was heading to Crieff to visit a chum who's recovering from surgery. I had some jobs to do outside the house, but the weather was proving a bit tricky as the final show of Storm Darragh passed through. 

I decided a visit to the hut was better use of my time, so headed-up over the Lammermuirs to check how the woods had endured the winds. One mature birch had snapped at the trunk bole and dropped across the path, and on closer examination there was obvious heart rot. I had the chainsaw with me, so was able to clear the trunk off the path in no time. The hut was fine and I soon had a good stove fire going and a brew in hand. 

For variety, I drove home over Redstone Rig and travelled carefully through in incredibly wet Merse country.  Taking a diversion to avoid field water flooding on to the farm lane in front, I passed Pittlesheugh Polo Pavilion. Who knew the local toffs played polo? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised in the heart of feudal Scotland.