the last gold thing

Today was very bright — just the day for a walk — so we went to Melrose and ascended the Eildons. Each of the hills has a very different character. I don’t know about King Arthur sleeping under the Eildons but there were certainly lots of rabbits beneath the most westerly one — the ground was riddled with warrens. All around us, the Borders were laid out like patchwork, and despite the freezing wind, the light was very beautiful:


The landscape has suddenly become very wintry indeed — the heather burnt from the hills and the bracken all brown and cripsy. Most of the trees we saw today were bare like this one:


But below us in the valley we saw one still covered in yellow leaves:


Shining stoically in the thin afternoon light, this tree seemed the last gold thing of the year.

. . . but there was actually one more golden thing . . .and we certainly needed it after walking up and down three hilltops:


A tasty fat rascal I bought in Bettys yesterday while visiting the Knitting and Stitching Show. In fact, I even managed to fit some textiles into today’s proceedings: following Helen’s recommendation, we visited Hinnigans in Selkirk on the way home . . . more of all this later . . .