All around me are familar faces

I left Troon in 1983, and headed to college in Edinburgh. Between then and now, I've lived in seven houses, eight including this one, but never out the confines of Scotland.

I came back to Troon for my kids. I wanted them to have the location and education I was fortunate enough to benefit from.

I leave the house in the morning and glimpse between the houses and over the roofs Dundonald Hill which sits as a wall protecting Troon to the west.

As I turn through the middle of the park which runs behind our house, each morning I hear the clack of the early morning golfers on Kilmarnock Barassie Golf Club. It took me a while to adjust to this noise. When my dad played, it wasn't metal to the ball, it really was "wood" with the occassional Iron!

I watch carefully as sometimes I've been lucky enough to see, though not fast enough to capture, little moles burrowing their mountains into the field! I'm surprised there are any left given the number Bean returns with each night!

Under the bridge and towards the station and I glimpse beyond the water and on a morning like today the Holy Isle nestled in front of Arran.

On the station I stand in the relative peace for a few moments and listen to the tinkle of the burn running under the platform. Today with the added timpani of bees buzzing and pigeons cooing - I think their eggs have hatched, there is more noise than normal.

My train comes, the familar faces all get on the same carriages, and I confused them all by changing carriage every day.

All that every morning in the space of 500 yards!