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The Dog Rambler E-diary

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January 2012
Walk Dogs on walk

Saulton half Wood, East Lothian

Length

6 miles

Cyrano, Dylan, Finn, Jolie, Otis, Phoebe, Solo,

I say half wood because of the destruction we witnessed today. Roslin Glen had got off lightly from the huge winds of last week. As we found on our trip there on Monday. Very lightly compared to the utter devastation in parts of Saulton Wood. I counted over one hundred trees which had toppled or been snapped just above their base in addition to the tangles of twisted branches wrenched from the upper parts of other trees. I have never seen anything quite like it. We knew we were in for some sights and some struggles when we encountered the first two trees across the path after only fifty yards or so. They brought the dogs to a halt. The branches of the first lay across the path a thick curtain of green pine needles. They did not think to go around it and onto the scrubby low undergrowth beside the path spiked with twigs. Only when I moved off the path did some follow, others pushed their way through. Finn was back in the folds today and both Phoebe and Dylan were very pleased to see him. And him them. Growling and prancing he and Dylan raced off. Anti-social Dylan keen to play! Phoebe tried to follow but she had her own followers today. Her season having advanced meant that Otis and Solo were once again snared in the trap and could do

nothing else but follow her entranced by her aura. Cyrano too was pulled in and never seen far away from Phoebe today either. Jolie a little put out at first. Not because she was not getting the attention from the boys. That may have been a bit of a relief for her judging by the resigned hang dog expression on Phoebes face sometimes as they clustered around her. No, more because Phoebe was preoccupied and unable to play with her very much. Finn may have been up for it but some distant gunshots echoing through what was left of the trees soon saw him walking close to me. The first section of the walk became very much an obstacle course. Huge trees lay beached like whales across the track. The wind in their branches making it look as though they were struggling to save themselves. But it is in vain. Some totally rootless, where their wide trunks had snapped, splintering wood everywhere are already lost. Others with roots torn up in great vertical plates of root and soil, leaving bomb like craters behind them may have stood a chance of some stunted future. But across the track they will soon be dealt with. Somewhere from deep in the woods came the sound of chainsaws, despatching the wretched trees. We clambered over gnarled thick trunks and through the stiff brushes of branches. Eventually we left the wood to take a stroll around tracks at the edge of a chequer board of fields. Some cultivated with young crops gripping hard into the chunks of soil as big as themselves. Others still stubble with green weeds prising between the stunted yellow husks of stalks. A low sun came out casting long shadows and Phoebe broke loose from her entourage long enough to wrestle and chase with Dylan and Finn. Jolie too throwing herself into the fun. But soon she was surrounded again and as we went back into the woods Dylan and Finn had to make their own fun and Jolie played with the occasional stick. On one side of the track a great swathe of pine trees had come down. On the other only two birch trees had succumbed. It was as though a giant had taken a scythe to them and a long line five trees deep and about thirty trees in length all lay askew in the same direction. It was now like one long low hedgerow with the green branches making a thick hedge like barrier. It was a sad sight as were the yet more trees which covered the path as

we made our way along different tracks. Phoebe continued to fend off the boys. Jolie ran about entertaining herself as Finn was now walking with me, something I do not think he has ever done much in the past. Dylan was in and out of the forest of twigs and branches piling up off the track. It meant we all stayed quite close together except when Phoebe upped her pace to try and break free, like swatting at bees. And then all I saw in the distant was a scrum of dogs with Phoebe at the centre. We swung back out of the woods and into the car park. Happy to leave the solemn sadness of the crushed trees behind. The lament of the chainsaw grinding out the last rights on them. Finn raced ahead with Phoebe to the car, and soon a crowd was waiting for me to open the doors for them. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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