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A Sunset in the Sidlaws

  • Writer: Sophie Hazel
    Sophie Hazel
  • Nov 10, 2020
  • 3 min read

Well, it’s round 2 of lockdown so once again, I’m doing my exploring slightly closer to home. But this time it’s cold. And rainy. And windy. And did I mention cold? Well, as Mamma always used to say, “no such as thing as bad weather, just bad clothing!” Easy for you to say, Mamma, when it’s 30 degrees in Abu Dhabi and you’re sunbathing on a beach!


Anyway, I’d spent too long in St Andrews sat at a desk so I knew it was time to stretch my legs and get up some sort of hill. With limited time due to a setting sun, lots of work and an expected hangover, a friend and I decided that something short but sweet would do the trick. We settled on the Lundie Craigs circuit in the Sidlaws, less than 45 minutes away from St Andrews.

On Saturday morning we woke to a thick fog enveloping the town. The tops of buildings stood tall as shadows, disappearing as the fog thickened. People walking outside were wrapped in many layers, clearly heeding Mamma’s clothing advice and hiding their faces from the frosty air. The fog created a mystical air outside, like the remnants of Halloween still loitering over the streets. I couldn’t wait to get out. Hoping eggs and coffee would mop up last night’s wine, I put on optimistically few layers and we set off in the car to the start point. As we left Dundee and drove amongst fields, the fog clung to the tree tops and even shrouded the sheep in a wet, cold mist.


We parked opposite a farm, hugged our coats tighter and then set off along the track into the clouds. As it curved left, we escaped the fog and saw the changing colours of the trees. An amber hue decorated the edge of the forest, the blanket of leaves around our feet dotting the mud with colour. The track led us to the grassy dam of Ledcrieff Loch and we stopped by the water, realising that there was a complete absence of noise: no cars, no people, no birds, nothing. It was utterly peaceful. We continued through the forest, me hoping this would inspire my “hobbit”-themed dissertation, and saw the clouds clinging low in the valley, hiding the houses and jeweling the far-off hills. The fog seemed to have put the world to sleep, a blanket over a quiet Sunday afternoon.


We left the track, cutting right onto a smaller footpath and clearing the trees, approaching open moorland. We climbed higher, the familiar pounding of a hangover really kicking in at this point, edging around a transmitter mast and then turning left to the summit trig point. As we reached the cusp of the hill, we stopped, speechless. We stood above the clouds, like a true Friedrich painting, standing as ‘Wanderer[s] Above the Sea of Fog’, in awe of what was spread out in before us.



The mist enveloped the world below the hill and stretched for miles, coating a dreary November day in a fairytale-like radiance. It was like being stood on the tallest mountain in the Alps, or flying in a plane high in the sky, feeling like we’d made it to the top of the world. How was this so close to home? How was this only an hour’s walk? How was this real? We stood on top of that hill for a while, unable to leave but just drinking in the view.



Eventually, realising that a winter sunset was imminent, we left the summit and followed the escarpment back down into a valley peppered with dew drops. We followed a rough path through the long grass back to the dam of Ledcrieff Loch, with the sun beginning to set behind the tall pines.




A solitary fisherman stood on a jetty, his figure a black shadow in the last of the afternoon’s rays. Again, that sense of pure tranquillity enveloped us as we tip-toed around puddles and walked back onto the forest track. We retraced our steps back to look out over Strathmore, knowing that if we timed it right, we could watch the orange glow of sunset paint the mist. We stood watching the sun dip behind the hills, a pink blossom staining the sky.




As the temperature dropped with the sun, we zipped up our coats and then marched back to the car, heading away from the embers of the sunset. We hopped into the car, whacked the heating on full blast and then drove back, feeling very sleepy and content. Definitely our new favourite hangover cure!

 
 
 

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