I was meant to be having an early night, but the moon was stunning - one day off being full. It was an incredibly clear night, full of stars. The moon was so bright that it cast proper shadows on our balcony, and the whole bay was lit up. The light was silvery, very ethereal looking. I can see why it's often described as having a magical quality; certainly seeing everything lit up that way did make things appear somewhat otherworldly. It wasn't as bright or colourful as the daytime, but it was bright enough to see people walking on the beach, to see the rocks, and water, the waves - even some colours could be made out. Normally all you can see is the occasional flash of murky white as a wave breaks. You wouldn't be able to see the sand or the water, let alone people.
I was in my pyjamas, but I couldn't let the chance go to waste, so out I went onto the balcony, in my dressing gown, with my camera. It was bitterly cold. My dressing gown kept me warm, though my ankles were a little too exposed for my liking.
This is what West Bay looked like:
I set the camera on the table, propped it up, and pointed it at the moon. All things considered, the photo came out pretty well. (Trying to get the camera to focus at that angle was fun, and I was shivering a bit much by that point).
I'm so pleased with this - it's come out amazingly well! Look at those stars - you can see Orion's Belt pretty clearly, just above the reflection on the balcony rail, which is what that black thing across the bottom right hand corner is.
Not a brilliant quality photo because I had to hold the camera (as opposed to propping it on something) and I was rather chilly. It gives the idea of just how bright it was out there, though.
The morning was beautiful too - clear and very frosty. The sun was just rising as I was making my way to the far end of East Bay which is where we were to meet.
This is what it looked like. The colours were beautiful. As I walked, the sun rose high enough to light up Bass Rock. The lighthouse was a bright pinky orange colour, and the glass in the light reflected the sun very brightly, so that it looked almost as if the lighthouse was still on, or at least, on fire. You can see how cold it was the night before; look at the frost.
At the far end of East Bay, looking back towards the harbour. The sun was coming up, spilling red light across the town.
The cliffs were still very dark, and the sea was incredibly blue, reflecting the sky. The clouds were picking up the pink of the sunrise.
As it got brighter, the sea stayed the same amazing blue. Craig turned pink in the light,
though it hasn't really shown up in this photo.
After we'd explored the cliffs and had a walk, the archaeologist left (her brains thoroughly picked by me) and I walked back across the beach. It was only about ten in the morning, on a weekday, so almost no-one was about. I like having the beach to myself. The tide was out, so I explored the rocks near the cliffs.
I took this because I liked the contrasts between the rocks, seaweed and the ripples in the sand. The sea was still almost luminous.
Looking back across the beach - the sun was finally visible. It was still very cold, though out of the wind, the sun was very warm. A little taster that winter is beginning to leave.
It was such a beautiful morning, the colours and the light were stunning. I liked what was going on with the lines of the rock and the ripples of the sand here. Except for the birds, I had the beach to myself.
A couple of very photogenic rockpools.
A boulder, and one of the rockpools. I liked the way they were all so still and reflected the sky.
This one looked like a little blue path through the seaweed.
I took this because the rockpool, the sea in the distance, and the sky were all incredibly blue.
More blue.
The angle of the light was creating interesting colours and shadows on the beach. Here's a close up of the different ripples in the sand. The shadows had a blue-ish tint to them, while the other side was orange in the sunlight.
I like this last one, with the standing water and the contrasting colours of the sand and the water.
The angle of the sun meant it was quite hard not to end up with my shadow in the pictures. I took this one because of the odd look of the sun, water, and shadows on the sand, since the standing water reflected the sky. This is exactly how it looked in person.
A stream running down the beach.
The stream.
I was still the only one on the beach, but tracks of dogs and their humans indicated I wasn't the first here.
Everything that was wet was blue.
Because the sun was still very low, it was picking out all the details in the sand.
This is the dried-up watercourse from a rockpool that dries out slowly as the tide goes out.
Frost-like patterns and little channels created by water running out of the sand.
The patterns are very intricate, but they get washed away as the waves come in.
Looking back along the beach. The light had changed, it wasn't so pink and golden.
Another line of rocks with a gap in it.
In March 2010 there was a huge storm which scoured away great quantities of sand from the beach (the pebbles and water on the right side of the photo would normally be covered by sand). The beach is slowly being built back up, but in the meantime the action of the sea means that things are still emerging from the sand. We think this may have been an addition to the paddling pool, which can be seen in the background of this photo. Alternatively, it may have been something entirely different, as it's much higher up the beach than the other pool.
The old Victorian pool. You can see how much sand has been lost off the beach; the white section of the wall was covered by sand (which is why it's not covered in weed). The sand would have covered everything up to about half way along the wall, and there would have been little shallow pools beyond that.
Wiildlife by the swimming pool.
Looking back at the beach from the pool wall.
Then I noticed the ripples on the water and the patterns made by the sun:
Ripples in the shallow water.
Slightly fewer ripples as the water gets deeper.
Even deeper, fewer ripples.
At the deep end.
Fishing boat.
Reflection looking like a watercolour painting.
The same view, not as close up.
A lone person on the beach, and the sun reflected in the pool. Berwick Law in the background.
The water was incredibly still.
Across the pool.
Victoria Street, with the sun and the early morning haze.
In the afternoon, we went to visit Chesters Hill Fort which was built by a local tribe in the Iron Age. It's actually overlooked by a hill right next door, which suggests the possibility that despite all the ring ditches and earth ramparts, the fort wasn't really defensive. It was in use around the time the Romans were in the area, so possibly defenses weren't necessary. It may have been a religious or ceremonial site, in which case its social significance would be enough of a defence. As well as the earthworks around the fort, many roundhouses can be seen dotted about inside.
We met some sheep. And were scrutinised.
Ramparts, with Berwick Law in the background.
More ramparts, with sheep lurking in the background.
We came round the corner of the hill and started the climb to the top. I looked up, and saw these two looking us over.
I turned to admire the view, then turned around to continue climbing...
...to find that the two sheep had suddenly multiplied.
The sheep were actually really friendly. They belong to Historic Scotland and are known as the Flying Flock. That's because they move around the various Historic Scotland sites - anywhere the grass needs cut, the sheep are moved in to take care of it. Quite a cunning plan! They came over to us to get patted, we were sniffed, then they turned and trotted off in disgust, presumably because we weren't carrying any sheep-treats. Sheep can stalk off in disgust remarkably well for something so woolly.
Roundhouses on the top of the fort. The roundhouses are circular indentations, with raised mounds around them. There's one right in the centre of the picture; if you can't see it, click on the picture to go through to flickr where it's highlighted.
Frost in the valley between the fort and the hill next door. The sun was so low that the light hadn't reached this valley all day, so the frost hadn't melted.
Looking in the other direction.
Entrance to the fort. This wasn't the original entrance, but was made in the second phase of building. It looks like this may have been a ceremonial or processional entrance. There's a stone at the bottom which had characters inscribed on it, which may also support the ceremonial/processional idea.
The slope of the hill next to the fort. I thought the group of trees on the slope had an eerie quality to them, probably related to the fact they'd protected the ground around them from the frost.
It was very clear. This is an airoplane contrail.
The stone at the bottom of the entrance to the fort. The round black marks are from bullets; this was used as a target for shooting practice during World War II by the troops stationed nearby. If you can't see the marks, click through to flickr where I've highlighted them.
There's an inscription here, but it's almost completely lost by weathering now. I can see what I think might be it, but could equally well be just natural marks on the stone.
The view from this end of the fort, with our torso-less shadows. I liked the variety of colour in the wood, and the alternating brown and green of the fields.
Close up of the wood, and the row of trees in the field beyond. There was something very pleasing about the shadows that they cast. Berwick Law is in the background, and the top of Bass Rock can just be seen to the right of it (above the third wood to the right of Berwick Law - click through to flickr if you can't see it).
Fife emerging out of the mist.
The side of the fort, looking along the earlier ramparts. The later set can be seen below. This side of the fort didn't get any sun during the day.
This was part of the wall surrounding the field the fort was in. It looks like it was originally part of a house (or a building of some sort.)
The windows are clearly visible.
We looked across the wall next to the ruined building. We'd originally thought it was just an old labourer's cottage, but it began to look like it had been something more. A rounded gatepost had been incorporated into another part of the wall, and the rest of the gateway could be clearly seen. Not entirely sure what's going on with the left hand side of the gate though.
As we walked to the corner, it turned out that the bit of wall sticking out was actually part of what had been a tower. It doesn't look like it in this picture, but that grey bit of wall is actually curved. If you look at the broken end of the wall (that looks a bit like steps) you can sort of see it beginning to turn.
You can see the curvature more clearly in this one.
Looking at the gateway, with the tower on the far right of the photo, and what may have been part of a wall related to the tower, then drystone wall infill, then a strange rectangular might-have-been-gatepost, then the curved gatepost lurking behind the naughty branch which snuck into my picture.
Looking at the northern side of the fort, with both sets of ramparts clearly visible.
Annoyingly, there was absolutely no information about what was going on with the mysterious wall-building-gateway in the corner of the field. I'll have to start investigating...
