A Walk Around Leverndale and Pollok in Autumn.

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This is a post from Autumn 2020  that I found recently that I thought I'd already posted on the blog but apparently not. Instead I put up a post entitled 'Woodlands of the Mind' from November 2020 partly inspired by my walk with Anne here and recollections of a memory from the 1960s that I knew about. Barrhead Road above, beside Househill Park, a lesser known Glasgow Park but an attractive one, especially in autumn. It resides a mere ten minute walk away from Pollok's Silverburn Shopping Centre.

 

A couple of these photos I've used for other posts but this is the collection appearing as a whole for this walk. Househill Park, above. This park appears on both banks of the Levern Water and is mainly known by locals but it can be extended by following a green tree lined sward/meadow with several paths through it along Barrhead Road, B762, to the Hurlet. I completely forgot how beautiful it was until this autumn walk reminded me and I thought then 'I'll come back here.' This Easter weekend I did just that and much more so to keep it in sequence this is the original post that inspired two more very enjoyable recent days out. 

 

I really enjoyed growing up in Pollok and Nitshill and the landscape surrounding this district, as seen above, was a large part of that appeal for me. This photo sums it up perfectly. Mature deciduous woodlands, open meadows, streams, dairy cattle, some fields of crops, and romantic rolling ridges stretching to the far horizon made it a wonderland for a nature lover and explorer.  Friends and fellow walkers in clubs have come and gone over the various decades, like leaves blowing from autumn trees, but a deep love of nature has proved an eternal companion for me. And it probably started right here. Who wouldn't be inspired to explore this amazing landscape, above... if it was on their doorstep.

 The Levern Water. A very modest stream yet with the aid of lades, numerous small dams and reservoirs built upstream for all year round supply, it powered several large cotton mills in Neilston and Barrhead during the UK's industrial revolution.

 

And gave it's name to the nearby vale and hospital, the grounds of which are open to the public. Leverndale Hospital above. First opened as Govan Asylum in the late 1800s it had expanded by the early 1900s to include the nearby Hawkhead House and further buildings on this site, renamed Hawkhead Mental Hospital then in the 1960s changed to Leverndale. 

 

I first knew about it, like most kids in Pollok I'd imagine, because the tower could be clearly seen from my local hillside in Nitshill, seen above, and natural curiosity when young asked the question 'what is that place?' Also, being the unenlightened 1960s, various parents would openly say to unruly children  in the street 'If you don't behave you will end up in Leverndale!' 

Most of the older stone buildings here have been converted into upmarket flats now so it makes an interesting and attractive walk. Having lived 60 plus years on the planet yet not suffered any real trauma or tragedy... yet.... I can easily see how circumstance or upbringing or stress could easily tip someone off kilter. Even without major drama occurring in my life I have contemplated suicide a few times. been depressed, and looking back at my younger self, especially during my teens and twenties... reflected at my state of mind in past decades.... and shudder inwardly. I realise in hindsight I did not always veer on the right side of sanity at times. (For example, some of my early solo kayak trips for instance, alone and paddling out into the open sea, miles from land, yet unable to do an Eskimo roll properly were very close cousins to suicide if I'd capsized at any point. I was so taken with my new toy however and the general euphoria of adventure and exploration I never thought about all the things that could go wrong) And work can have a habit of grinding you down as well....slowly... year by year. Like rolling a large boulder uphill from 16 to 66. 70 in the future apparently... unless you are French.

Part of the hospital is still a mental health facility but we were more interested to explore the grounds and older buildings converted into flats and the various scenic paths leading off in all directions from this hub.

I've not been here for many decades so it was all new. I did come here in the late 1960s as a youngster, several times, natural curiosity again proving irresistible. When you can see a mysterious tower lurking in the distance with hushed or not really well explained reputation it only builds up the desire to go there. I remember a long tiring walk from my house on foot then across several fields, marshy meadows, and thick dark woods after the Hurlet (in black plimsoll gym shoes probably as I don't think Adidas trainers had come in that early, (1968) or I didn't have a pair yet) I do remember it was very boggy underfoot and a herd of hefty cows had made hundreds of water filled holes in the mud that myself and a young friend fell into repeatedly so we were both repulsed and disgusted halfway to it. A solo trip a second time a year later during a heatwave summer succeeded but was again a disappointment. It was just a place to arrive at not a magical mystery destination after all. At that age I never thought of taking a bus directly to it. An early grail quest for a small 12 year old knight to puzzle out a fitting route that would really test me. Obviously I was going to include highlights on the way there like Hurlet Hill and The Bull Wood. ( This will become relevant during the next few posts recently undertaken at Easter)

Coal tit on bird feeder. Leverndale.

Quiet entry road up to Leverndale which sits on a modest hill.

 

Shaggy Inkcap mushrooms.

 

Shaggy inkcap in close up.

 Modern apartments and the central tower in 2020.

 

The main tower at Leverndale getting maintenance work. Finished now.
 

Pollok Civic Realm. You can get a train to Crookston Station or a bus to Silverburn Shopping Centre to explore Crookston Castle, Leverndale Hospital grounds, The nearby White Cart Water Walkway and Househill and Rosshall Parks... so plenty to do here in this vicinity.

Very pretty place in autumn colours.

And usually quiet.

Touch of red here.

 

Part of Househill Park in Pollok.

 

Tree lined streets in Pollok. Autumn 2020.

Rubbish. The Good The Bad and The Ugly. Part Two.

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If you wondered what all the fuss was about in the last post, during the height of summer growth, then this mid winter view, when the ground is bare of vegetation, paints a truer picture.

A gallery of photographs taken between Anniesland Cross and the Glasgow boundary with Clydebank over two short days containing a mix of different areas, some very well heeled, some not. Like a virus though rubbish and litter appears in both places. This gallery consists of photos taken on a recent bike trip and one short walk along the Forth and Clyde Canal and The Glasgow to Loch Lomond cycletrack on my return around the city, stopping at random spots when any rubbish occurred in adjacent grass areas or thin strips of trees.  

The scenic Forth and Clyde Canal runs through Glasgow. Heron pondering the merits of a discarded plastic bag here.

Plenty of others to choose from. I hate to think of all the rubbish under the water.

Tufted ducks on the canal. A diving variety of duck. No wonder most animal, bird, and insect species have reduced in numbers between 50 to 80 percent in the last 30 years when you think of what they are up against swimming underwater here. Trying to catch fish or find food in an underwater graveyard/ obstacle course of sunken shopping trolleys, bricks, bottles and cans covering the waterproof floor of this canal.

It's bad enough what's floating on the surface.

 Grey Wagtail. Nature tries its best to survive in these situations but it is not easy. 30 swans dead out of 50 this winter from bird flu in a local park pond. And that's just the ones I've heard about being reported.

Full of the joys of spring. It is always a delight to see the thousands of yellow daffodils appearing each spring, like magic, along Great Western Road.... but not when you see an empty can, bottle, or plastic bag resting happily every few feet among them.

This is on a slip road off it near Clydebank and I'm sure most of the rubbish here is from either walkers dropping it or chucked from moving cars. Loads of cans and bottles every few feet. No wonder I prefer the summer months, seen in the last post, when it's mostly hidden by undergrowth. Out of sight out of mind. But it shouldn't be that way.

A local wildlife haven where many different birds gather. 

'Springtime in the wildlife reserve' I'm calling this one.
Park Life. Liked the song and album. This is the reality in March 2023. Funnily enough, the abandoned 'waste ground' featured two posts ago has far less rubbish within it and much more wildlife friendly diversity of habitats. Because very few people go there in part.

Community garden strip.

The 'gates of paradise.'

Litter in an urban wood.

Posh litter in a well heeled district of detached houses. An oat drink. Good for you apparently.

Still Life portrait. Litter with dead cat in bag. Not so good for it.

Some of it may be foxes or gulls opening bags or stuff blowing away during windy weather .......but not all the glass bottles and cans. Most of them have been left here or chucked away. Surely we, and the wildlife, deserve better than this? Next time... please kindly stick any rubbish in a nearby bin or better still if full, take it back to your own house bin. Save the planet... from humans.

Rubbish. The Good The Bad and The Ugly.

                                                  ALL PHOTOS CLICK FULL SCREEN.

 

This is a walk taken during the height of late summer last year in the afternoon from Old Kilpatrick to Duntocher and back.  I did it with my friend Anne as it is one of our favourite local walks near Glasgow. I've always loved spring, summer, and autumn for the colours and lush vegetation (and hopefully the heat) and this particular outing occurred during a heatwave so late afternoon was a perfect time to go out being still pleasantly warm but 8 degrees cooler than peak mid-day temperatures.

The bugs were enjoying the heat as well. Soldier Beetles here. The grass, flowers, and surrounding vegetation appeared at its tallest and most verdant... waist to head high in places... July and August....the nearest Scotland gets to a tropical paradise.

Shimmering heat haze over the golden cornfields conjured up a distinctive Wizard of Oz vibe in my imagination... and did I not have my (sometimes faithful) Dorothy and Toto marching right beside me here... no hint of a tornado yet. So....everything was perfect in Munchkinland.

 

Or was it? I say this as it struck me on several short winter walks recently around my local area that the Central Belt... hedgerows, canal foot paths, lay-bys, grass verges, small wooded strips.... must be one of the world's dirtiest locations. Fact. In summer all the rubbish of beer cans, energy drinks, glass bottles,coffee cartons, dog shit, etc is thankfully hidden and we can pretend we all live in a beautiful serene scenic country. In winter however it is laid completely bare and I could spend an hour in any living room sized section of hedgerow or layby near me picking up dozens of individual pieces of litter and handfuls of cans. No exaggeration. I will take photographs next time to prove it. Sadly you could pick it all clean and in one month it would be back again as bad as ever. Scotland, (and the UK in general) has fantastic scenery- one of the world's most varied landscapes, but it is very, very bad for litter. World class in fact. Rightly famous for it as an incredibly dirty nation. Normally I can ignore it in the main but post pandemic, this winter, it seems to be worse than ever before. Especially with the spring flowers bursting out surrounded by a cheerful garland of used nappies, half empty beer cans, vomit, and wine bottles. Might make an apt eye catching poster for the new SNP elections.

 

 

Anyway, back to the dream time heat of Oz and the euphoria of  mid summer where everything is hidden again. A pleasant path leading to the village of Duntocher.

 Back to beauty once more.

 Poppies in a garden.

 Summer at its finest.

 

An unusual flower. Nature always does its very best to cheer us up with beauty but a percentage of humanity seems to delight in desecrating it instead. How hard can it be to put litter in a bin or take it home with you?
 

Even the weeds do their part to hide the sea of rubbish left behind by thoughtless or evil individuals. Rose bay willow herb here.

 Pink thistles and soldier beetles getting jiggy.

 

The walk follows the route of the Antonine Wall in places. Even a percentage of Roman recruits stationed in the various forts presumably tossed litter around here. Five percent? Ten percent? Fifteen?

It's now a children's play park. Since childhood I don't leave litter around and always carry anything I bring with me on any walk back to my own house bin or find one along the route so who are these people that continually drop stuff out of cars or toss it away as they walk along. Do they want to live in a world with rubbish knee deep?  Aren't smart phones supposed to make us smarter... not turn us into idiots?

 Signpost to Rome. Only 413 leagues to walk? That actually sounds achievable! After all, they did it one thousand years ago in crap heavy gear.

In not very well padded sandals or boots as well.. maybe even bare feet for some.

Path up Golden hill.  

 

Golden hill summit view.

 

The local burn. A shady cool place under the trees in the heat.

 The local park in Duntocher.

 Same local park.

 The euphoria of high summer vegetation. It hides many sins. Unlike humans, animals have to live here. This is their home and we continually destroy it. No wonder insect, bird, reptile, and mammal populations are crashing when you see what they have to live in, at ground level, in winter.

 

Farms in the Kilpatrick Hills.

 

 

Even the walk back along the A82 is beautiful at this time of year with a variety of flowering weeds. I should point out this is not a walk with an overabundance of litter on it. We both like it because it is one of the better ones, being semi rural. But over the last few months of winter and weekly walks elsewhere, with an absence of vegetation to hide it all, the current levels of rubbish in every city verge, wooded margin or canal towpath I walk past is a national scandal and makes a complete mockery of all the 'green credentials' we are supposed to be meeting. In summer I can usually ignore it and pretend all is well but during the bleak winter months it is a disgrace. How can we expect to fix climate change when we crap in our own basket.... repeatedly. No one I know leaves litter lying around but it must be someone doing it as there is so much of it. Normally I focus on or highlight the beauty that surrounds me and try to ignore the rubbish at my feet but any overseas visitors must be appalled and disgusted. Fact. The UK has one of the most varied and beautiful patchwork quilt landscapes anywhere on the planet, the envy of other countries that can only dream of such varied complexity of terrain, with every few miles offering a totally different geological feature or completely different views round every bend, yet we routinely and increasingly trash it like this... week in week out. Hopefully in the future we can develop an army of tiny garbage robots picking or eating all the litter up as the UK seems completely incapable of doing it itself. Not every country is like this though. I now carry a separate bag with me for used can collections on my travels . It's a small start against a tsunami of junk.