Menondamoval; Tearing Away

As mentioned previously, I lingered in Banff for a full three weeks. This is unusual, but it is a comfortable and tolerant place, if not entirely perfect... quite a growing group of boy racers as the teenagers pass their tests! I did note that at least one of the hooning cars was actually an all-girl event. Young uns being young uns. 

The park up by the shore was definitely a winner! Watching the tide come and go over the rocks was very meditative, as was watching the Gulls fight the very strong wind that was present for a few days. Almost stationary into - then up and swoop at speed with the wind back to the sea walls.

I spotted Eider, Guillemot and Pochard, too, but not close enough for this lens. 

However, the time came when one just had to tear oneself away. I headed for Banchory, where I can again park for a few nights unbothered, get the van charged, and stock up on groceries. En route, I made a slight dogleg to locate Cothiemuir.

The site is set on the Forbes family estate and was established less than twenty years ago. Malcolm, Master of Forbes, felt it was an appropriate diversification (i.e. moneyspinner) for the estate, given there is an ancient monument there which is believed to be a burial site. In the woodlands surrounding the monument, contained ash containers may be buried, but for whole-remains interments, the flatter meadow part is being used and planted in five different native plots as seen on their wee map. I did note some markers, but most plantings remained unmarked... and there is no marker for Gail's plot, nor did I have any indication as to which of the trees might be favoured.

I walked the whole meadow, assessing the different plantings and, with some educated guesstimates, decided that a sapling of about six or seven months came down to one slender Rowan, tucked at the back of a thicket of grass and thistle.

I cannot say to you definitively that this is Gail's tree, but for age and growth, it was the closest I could come to it. It may have been sensible to ask her brother for details, but as the burial had been closed to only near family and given Gail's own sense of privacy, it did not seem appropriate. The point of a natural burial is to return as simply and humbly to the earth as possible, and I can report to you that the sense of peace here was wonderful. I wandered up to the ancient stones to offer my respects there as well. Then, eventually, I again had to tear myself away...