For many years now I’ve had breaks of some kind in Scotland. Usually in the Dunkeld area. That’s a great location for travelling out to all points of the Scottish compass. One of the places that has been a semi regular location to visit is Findhorn, up in the North East of Scotland on the Moray Coast, where the River Findhorn spills out into the Moray Firth.
At low tide the beaches are wide and clear, with a necklace of shingle where the high tide kisses against the shore.
For me the beach has an enigmatic quality, here and there amongst the sharp bladed grass the memories of old conflicts rear up in the shape of long deserted pill boxes. There’s been an old white hut just back from the beach for as long as I’ve been visiting. Slowly decaying, falling away.
It was barely holding itself together on my last visit, so by now it will most likely have gone, carried away by time.
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