I took a walk yesterday morning, down into town then along the beach and on up to Fullarton Woods. From there I picked up on a part of the Smugglers Trail; a new (to me at least) tourist walking trail that winds its way from South Beach all the way over to Dundonald Castle. I remember learning about the smugglers in history lessons when I was at Troon Primary school many, many years ago. Looking back it occurs to me that it was the way in which history learning was rooted in local context which made it so appealing. When I reached Secondary school my interest waned somewhat when we had to learn about, well, I don't really remember to be honest. Banal facts about Kings and Queens probably, or something equally distant and irrelevant to teenagers only interested in the Now and the(ir) Future.
Anyway, this line of trees struck me as I walked the Smugglers Trail from the woods up to Loans. A fine line of trees; and the line from the Go-Betweens song haunting my mind of course. Part company, in case you didn't know.
One hopes not, of course, although loss is always there in the background gently calling. Just like history.
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