Wild Moment: John Milne
A much-loved walk up Meikle Bin sparks a life-long passion for the high places of Scotland.
It is highly unlikely I shall again reach the summit of Meikle Bin, a Marilyn with a unique place in my heart upon which there dawned over 60 years ago a love affair with the high places of Scotland.
Having reached my 76th year, I find most of my walking has to be done in my imagination - relying heavily on memory. I particularly enjoy joining the youngster I was in my early teens, when I first ventured onto the Kilsyth Hills literally from the back door of my home.
Hills of home
I remember the high moorland fields from where I watched with joy the lapwing no longer there: purple-green birds soaring suddenly upwards; hurtling earthwards; filling the air with their peewit cries.
I remember the burn with its stepping stones leading me ever higher over moorland onto the hill: often in company, but my memories are of being alone watching the lapwing in early spring sunshine.
Tomtain, Garrel Hill, Laird's Hill by Meikle Bin and the reclusive Bins Little and Bairn: the birthplace of a love affair with the high places of Scotland.
It was only a matter of time till we found our way north.
Liathach, Cul Mor, Stobinian, Stac Pollaidh, Tullaichean: reflect, look back and dream until eventually I had to leave behind these northern hills returning in my mind to the hills of home.
Now no more upon the high ridge, the pinnacles and snow filled gulley, but on the empty moorland: homely hills; remembered slopes; rain-filled burn; uncertain stepping stones; dark wet marshland; a startled ewe; lonely curlew cries.
Shrouded in mist, leaving behind a troubled world: searching for beauty and truth in the solitude instead.
Pictured above: Tomtain taken from the Tak Ma Doon Road over the Kilsyth Hills to Carronbridge by John Milne