Favourite Place #1 - The Water of Leith

In less than five minutes, I can walk from my flat, which is on a very busy main road, to a place that looks and feels like a country setting.

The Water of Leith is a small river which originates in the Pentland Hills, south-west of Edinburgh and wanders through central Edinburgh before spilling into the sea water of the Firth of Forth in Leith. In recent years, footpaths have been built and the Water of Leith Walkway is about 12 miles long. The footpaths run alongside the water for the most part, but sometimes diverge and occasionally lead back on to a stretch of city street, and then back to the walkway.

As I do a lot of walking (yes - you heard right - the chunkeriffic lazy girl is walking!), I try to use the walkway to get to my destination, if possible, even though it might be a longer walk. I use it once a week to get to Tesco, where I buy groceries, about 1 1/2 miles. Going in the opposite direction, towards the sea, I can walk to the library or down to the now-gentrified (but still working) docks area, where there are lots of nice little shops and a big shopping centre within reach (about 4 miles return journey). Before I was going to work every day, I used the walkway almost daily but can't do that now because it's dark by 4:30 pm.

I can tell it's going to be glorious in the spring just from all the berries on the shrubs and trees. Although the leaves have been blown to kingdom come by the gale force winds we get here, the bare branches are still adorned with great big fat rosehips, orange and peach coloured rowan berries (Mountain Ash), black elderberries, white snowberries and black hawthorn. When everything blooms in the spring and early summer, I'm sure the air will be very heavily scented.

On the water, there are mallards and, closer to the sea, in Leith, a pair of white swans. When I lived in Leith in my early teens, I remember there being a fair number of swans hanging out in the same part of the water these two are in now. I've also seen a heron a couple of times, standing on the rocks of a waterfall. Back then, the water was a black, oily mess from sea-going traffic but it's all been cleaned up now and is a lovely rich brown colour, like tea, from the peaty soil. Sometimes I take food for the ducks and, as soon as they sense the possibility of snacks, they all begin paddling madly to shore, the males all iridescent and polished with their clean white collars, their speckled brown wives alongside them. The seagulls bully them when there's food, though, and I feel bad about all the squabbling they have to endure just for a piece of wet bread. Sandwiched between waterfowl on one side and pigeons on the other, I'm surprised that the gulls stay in the water and don't bother the pigeons at all. Maybe pigeons are the bouncers of the scavenger bird world.

One of the best parts about my walks here are the dogs. The walkways are used just enough to make a person feel safe but aren't in any way overcrowded. One of my favourite things to do is to be out on a cold, dry day (warmly dressed, of course), plugged into Bach's Brandenburg Concertos on my MP3 player, marching along in my typical little sergeant major way (the Brandenburgs are quite lively in places and, therefore, well-suited to a brisk trot), and watching all the dogs have a lovely time off their leashes. They're all accompanied, of course, although I've seen the occasional terrier taking itself for a walk. The young labs, retrievers and collies are the most fun to watch because they're SO excited by all the smells, the squirrels and the other dogs. I often see one particular collie herding its mum and dad all the way along the path, zig-zagging behind and in front of them all the way, making sure they don't wander off or get abducted by foxes or aliens. There's another collie who comes flying down the steps in one spot to hide behind a tree, crouching and poised to leap. Then, when its mother reaches the bottom of the steps, the dog hurls itself into the air from behind the tree, landing beside her and then running on ahead, stopping every now and then to make sure she's still following. I've witnessed this comical scene a few times now. Collies are very busy, with no time for chit chat.

There are cats too - always the same ones in the same places, sitting on an old stone wall or in the branch of a tree. They're not sociable at all and are far too sophisticated to show excitement like the dogs do. They just watch, in that way cats do, as I walk past, ready to bolt if I pay them any attention. In the midst of all this are magpies, robins, starlings, thrushes and sparrows, and very noisy they are too. The magpies seem to always be arguing with each other and flouncing out of their tree in a huff. The smaller birds generally mind their own business, singing away to themselves and gorging on all those fat berries.

For those of you who have mocked me mercilessly in the past for my devotion to mosses and lichens and, to a slightly lesser degree, ferns and infant evergreens - you'll be pleased to hear that the place is thick with all of them, except the infant evergreens. And, best of all, they grow on old stone walls, another of my passions. I'm even considering adding fungi to my list of eccentric things to be fascinated by, after spotting a couple of beauties snuggled up against a tree. Such are the joys of living in a damp, chilly climate.

Here's the website in case you want to learn more:

http://www.waterofleith.org.uk/index.shtm