Here are some of the entries & winners for previous competitions:
Berry Red by Alistair Littlejohn
Wait for me by Alistair Littlejohn
Piglets, Sauchie Smallholding by Carol Moultie
The Praying Hands of Mary & Eilidh by Elaine Leighton
The Praying Hands by Elaine Leighton
Walking in the rain by Gae Matthews
Comrie Croft Circular by Hazel McGregor
Lunch Break on Lochearnhead to Killin by Hazel McGregor
Killin by Hazel McGregor
Walk to a Smallholding by Hazel McGregor
Sauchie Farm Smallholding 1 by Hazel McGregor
Sauchie Farm Smallholding 2 by Hazel McGregor
Down To Comrie by Kim Osborne. This was declared The Winner.
The falls in spate by Lesley Harbinson
Hurray the rain has stopped by Lesley Harbinson
Sheepin Mist by Lorne Graham
Snake River Valley by Lorne Graham
The walker by Lorne Graham
White Water by Lorne Graham
Wild River by Lorne Graham
Autumnal avenue by Lynne Legatt
Black butter by Lynne Legatt
Fun’ in the sun by Lynne Legatt
Lady Mary’s hidden treasure (2) by Lynne Legatt
Lady Mary’s hidden treasure (1) by Lynne Legatt
Reaching for the sky by Lynne Legatt
Alva to Glen Devon by Maija Strala Ibsen. Third Place.
Alva to Glen Devon 2 by Maija Strala Ibsen
Best Foot Forward by Mary Colvin
The Praying Hands of Mary by Mary Colvin
Water Under the Bridge by Mary Colvin
Lady Mary’s Walk by Peter Klemm
Mouse view of Lady Mary’s Walk by Peter Klemm was placed Second.
Porcelain fungus trio by Peter Klemm
Purple mushroom duo by Peter Klemm
Sunlit ferns by Peter Klemm
The passing of the year and the Earn by Peter Klemm
…and the Prose Competition:
The Unchosen Path – by Jenny Turnbull
It was not the walk you had chosen:
the high hill road and heather scramble,
an ancient trail lost almost to time.
Instead, unsteadying winds
and the relentlessness of rain
forced a change of plan –
a road you had walked before,
but new to me, this hidden valley,
my untrodden track.
Away from the howl and the blast,
with footing clear, we are free
to lift our eyes and look beyond ourselves
to treeline, hill ridge,
a sky of grey and white,
and tantalising, fleeting scraps of blue.
In the lee of the bothy we have space and breath
to talk, to share food and watch
the rush of water beneath the bridge,
and I think of how in life we sometimes walk
a path that is not of our choosing
out of love.
HORIZON – by Vicki Smith
It’s raining again
Ah well, I’ve booked, so I’m going
Wet yesterday, probably wet tomorrow
So, on we trudge
Wet boots, wet gloves, wet everything
Can’t see through the mist
Rain dripping down my neck
Water coming through my boots
It was lovely here last week” they said.
Who talked me into this ?
Must be mad, self inflicted madness.
Up the hill, over the hill, down the hill
Across boggy moorland
Disturbing the cattle, scattering the sheep
Trees dripping, grass glistening
Lochs shimmering, red kites soaring.
But wait . What’s that on the horizon ?
It’s a rainbow
Is that the sun ?
Yes it is
Look at that view
PURE BLISS !