stories and illustration

Smoke in the Foothills


My question is: how is there anything left dry enough to burn?

January 14, 2016 Posted by | Art, Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , , | 2 Comments

Fire on the Hills

Fire on the Hills

October 12, 2015 Posted by | Art, Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Smoke, Fields, Fires in the Past

Smoke, Fields, River Tweed

I thought this smoke was mist over the hills, but as I got higher up Nun’s Walk I could see that it was a fire lit in the fields beyond the Lees. There is little burning in autumn these days, but one sees thin wisps coming up from gardens here and there. My husband once managed to make half of Coldstream totally disappear in clouds of smoke when he burnt a felled tree – but that was long ago. and far away. My father once lit a little fire in April, in the Middle Marches, when the wind had dried everything up, even the moss on the walls. Fire took hold, and started speeding towards the forestry, burning in all directions as fires do.  My father, with his trousers not hitched up properly as per usual, was trying to put out the fire with water from the stream carried in the top of an old fashioned lawnmower.  He called me to help, but I was standing at an upper window and had a bird’s-eye view of what was going on – so I immediately phoned the Fire Brigade, who eventually turned up, not exactly hotfoot, from Longtown.  Two fire engines.  They arrived as the fire just hit the edge of the forestry, having burnt an entire field of scrub. My father was crest-fallen, to say the least.  But was slightly cheered when, that evening, my very small son went up to him and said: “Thank you for the fire-engines, Grandpapa.”

November 15, 2013 Posted by | Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments


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