Pictures Speak a Thousand Words (And Take As Long to Edit)

I just got my camera today. These pictures are uploaded in larger sizes at this address: Scotland Picasa Album. My camera sucks in general, so I had to edit these pictures a lot. You might spot some of the artifacts, but this is a very casual look at my community, and merited only a casual editing.

This is the view from the entrance to my neighborhood. I'm the second house there.

This is what you see if you look southeast from my front yard. The tower is the city center in this case, though often these towers belong to churches. Towers nearly identical to this one mark the town centers of the old villages. About a half-mile from that steeple is the North Sea.

This is my backyard. All of the neighbors have elaborate landscaping. The Scots, like many Europeans, love gardening. Nearly every window in a Scottish house has flowers. That's my little Malibu on the right. If you look closely, you can see the fog light mounted underneath the bumper on the right side.

This is what I think is called a doucat (sp?). This is right across the street from me on the South side. Our community owns and shares this property. Though I'm not sure what it's used for now, this doucat once belonged to the monastery that owned these grounds. They kept doves inside to eat them during the winter. Yes, they consumed the international symbol of peace back then. But that's nothing compared to haggis (I'll describe that one when I talk about Scottish food). Just behind the fence is an open pasture where horses and cows graze. The picture I took of it came out terribly, so I'll post a better one later.

This is the view from the corner of the doucat looking into town. It was going to rain, otherwise I would have photographed some of the town for you also.

To get to the doucat you have to cross this little 17th century bridge. My house is just on the other side of the one you see in the top center of the frame. This little bridge is marked by the Fife Council for conservation, but it is still safe to cross. I would have photographed the little stream that runs beneath it, but I didn't want the neighbors to think I was photographing their house. I'm still the outsider here and the youngest by two generations. To be honest, the maturity and class of the people I live around is the best part of being here. There is no noise besides the occasional patter of rain or a hand hoe against moist dirt.

Below is a close up shot of the wall that runs around this little community. Rennyhill Gardens is a small community within Rennyhill. There are only six or seven houses on this little street, all designed by the same architect. If you look at the first picture, this part of the wall is just to the right of the "Rennyhill Gardens" sign. It runs around the community entirely. I've gathered that it's the old boundary of the monastery. If you squint at the picture, you can spot the number '1688.'

This is the directly across the street from me, facing east. This house is the Rennyhill Farm house. I'm not sure who lives there, but it used to be part of the rectory for the monastery and local parishes. I'm not sure if this is the same building that was used back then, but it is the same plot of land.

Well, that's all I've got to show you today. It seemed like it was going to rain, so I called it a day and went back inside. When I was driving home home from picking up my camera, you could see the fingers of God poking through the blanket of clouds. That's a neat effect I see all the time here. I'll do my best to catch it on camera.