I was reading an excellent little blog on the myths,legends and spooks of my local area and came across a posting on a nearby souterrain.
I’d actually never heard of these before and it turns out they’re actually iron age dwellings brought north from Gaul, perhaps used for storing food or hiding out when there’s a bit of a scrap going on.


The entrance to this particular place is through a smallish hole underneath an old stone dyke, a bit wet and muddy but it’s easy enough to step down and in and it actually opens up to a decent space with good height.


The passageway curves around to the left and not surprisingly it’s completely black without a torch.
The sides closest to the entrance are green with vegetation which quickly dies off away from the light where the roof and walls drip with condensation.


There’s some scraping in the rocks of the wall but I’m under the impression these are more modern additions, although reading about this place it seems the “snake” carved into the roof could be original.
The gate that splits the cave in two is most certainly modern so I can only shoot through the bars to see the furthest part.


This is an amazingly well preserved bit of iron age Scotland and it does feel a bit spooky to be in there. The spookiness is probably not helped by signage telling you not to go in but I didn’t fire up the pocket rocket and scoot out there just to turn home again without a little look inside.
Always fascinating to touch something that you know has been touched by someone thousands of years before you.

Is There Anybody Out There?


Tried a little astrophotography on Sunday past with my almost ten year old Nikon. A bit noisy but pretty happy with them for a first attempt.


Something I’ve wanted to try for years but lacked the dedication. A clear night was predicted so fired up the 125 and zipped off into the darkness for an attempt at catching the Milky Way. Struggled to get the phone app to get going but we got there in the end, fired off a few shots and back on the old scoot for home. By the time I got back I had what polar explorers of the nineteenth century called “mild frostbite of the fingers” thankfully they thawed out after an hour or two.



I do like a marble statue in black and white, the blacker the better!
I’ve had a wee thing I’ve been planning to do for months I’m just too lazy to do it, but since we’ve signed off our 2019 holidays with a return to Italy and a first time to Rome and on seeing room upon room of marble statues I thought it would be a good opportunity to put my plan in action with a slight nod to Joy Division’s album cover Closer.


Hercules leads the page and the next one reminds me of Machinemensch from Metropolis or it did at the time I snapped the shutter . Below . . . I can’t remember, really should have snapped the info plates too although I’m sure it said it was made of fifteen separate pieces.


I need another trip to Italy if I want to recreate the Joy Division Closer photograph, the mausoleum on the cover sits in a cemetery in Genoa.
These images were taken in the Capitoline Museum, well worth a visit if you’re in Rome.

Witches Circle


Sitting not too far from the foot of Dunsinane Hill is this little circle of stones. Being that Macbeth’s fort once topped said hill, this little circle conjures up spooky images of fantastical beings with a canny knack for predictions.


There’s actually two circles in this area, one to the west and one to the east. Above is the eastern stone with King’s Seat behind, hidden behind the trees to the left is Dunsinane Hill and here’s a little link to an impressive view of the one time fort LINK


The western circle appears to be the more complete of the two, although it was overgrown and a bit swampy in parts. Who knows what lies beneath.


If time has been kind then there can sometimes be markings on the stones, the only markings I could see on any of the stones was what appeared to be a lion.

“Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care. Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.” Witch three

Maybe there’s more carvings beneath the earth, protected from a near thousand years of wind and rain. Or maybe it was just someone wasting some time with a little carving.

Speaking of carvings there’s a little tale that the real Stone of Destiny was buried at Dunsinane Hill and at some point in the 19th century it was discovered and sent off to be given the once over. It vanished.

Backwater Dam


A glorious autumnal day for firing up the little scoot for a trip northwards on board the Lexmoto. Taking in Backwater Dam and nipping into Blairgowrie on the way home for a needed pitstop.


I’d actually forgotten to take the old DSLR today so had to make do with the phone for any photography chances.




Almost forgot, here’s a wee film on the making and opening of the dam.