Duncan Harley

We decided to have a wander round Battlehill at Huntly over the weekend. Fortunately, we chose the Saturday full of sunshine and not the Sunday full of wet-stuff. We set off in bright sunshine for a bit then encountered a cold breeze from the north before circling into shelter and more strong sunshine on the lee side of the wood. It’s changed a bit since our last visit. The treeline around the summit has been re-planted and a series of archaeological digs have revealed some good evidence of habitation in past years. Post holes from bronze-age huts, some flint arrowheads and some ancient pottery have been uncovered and a fresh dig is planned for August 2018. Perhaps some bones of those slain in battle will come to light since seemingly the wood is named after a skirmish during the wars of Scottish Independence. However not much information is available on-line or indeed locally. At first, I wondered if the clash-of-arms might have been as a result of the bloody end-game of The Bat...

The writing of words is such a learning curve. And the publishing of words is at best fraught. I have said this before and will no doubt say it again, but that moment when the send button is pressed is such a bastard. Once the words have gone to wherever words go, the power and control has been given to another. An editor probably, and an overly pedantic editor might just be on the horizon. Or would it just be a friend intent on sorting out the mixed-up rhetoric. I have met both. Well, when I say met, I mean something much less. Since, some of the unmet editorial influences have been disastrous to say the least. And some of the met have been similar. Mind you, and on balance, those whom I have taken tea with have mainly excelled and taken good care of my words and intents. Leopard, Aberdeen Voice, Northern Scot are but to name but a few. Today, I was set to do battle with a new foe. Invited to review a Sondheim musical I was faced with a multitude of wordily issues via an unknown dig...