Tree and wild garlic

I love this solitary tree. It stands on the shore at Toward, just across the road from the ravaged piece of ground at the gates of Castle Toward where the new owners intend to make a grand entrance but where at the moment bluebells have sprung up all over the roughly cleared earth. Its bark has the clean, moss-free sheen of its life so close to the sea, and its relatively sparse foliage seems to have preserved it against the winds to which it is exposed.

Just now, its roots are surrounded by a carpet of wild garlic, in which bluebells are interspersed. And in the background, at the water's edge, the red sandstone which runs from here to Arran contrasts wonderfully with bright green seaweed. The distant haze was exacerbated this afternoon by the smoke from a heath fire on the hills on the Ayrshire side of the water; we could smell it from the road as the sun was obscured.