The Dam

The Dam

My thoughts were back to that difficult time in my life when I had to do a total rethink of what I was doing and where I was going. A minister with no voice was no minister at all. This prompted my other blog on Saturday. An email about this blog prompted further thoughts. Yesterday I returned to the place where this episode of my life took place. Strangely I do not live all that far from that place now.

When I was unable to speak I used to run each morning taking a route round a reservoir. Oddly enough although it is a reservoir it is called Gartmorn Dam. It was a beautiful run about two miles to the start of the path round the water, three miles round and two miles back. At one point a platform looking like a small harbour had been built, sadly no longer there. At this small decked area I stopped and did 20 minutes of Tai Chi looking out over the water to the Ochil Hills. Then I ran the return journey home.

Yesterday I went down memory lane and walked the route, taking my pencils with me.

Here is the result. A bit rushed and just as I was finishing this little sketch a family arrived with a dog. The young boy looked over my shoulder and asked his mother to look at what I was doing. Meanwhile the dog had run into the water jumped back out and shook himself depositing drops of water on my bad.

It seems that maybe this part of Scotland does not like me too much in spite of the fact I love it.

The blog is linked to my other.  What Kind of Person Am I?