Taigh Chombaich

The masons here in the nineteenth century used sand from the loch or spits beside burns mixed with lime for their mortar. We are close to slate outcrops so the sand is pebbly with small discs of slate. Its coarse of texture but perfect for using with lime. We are taking down those parts of the walls that trees are pushing over. To clear out old mortar, easiest is to tap it with a hammer and sweep out the grit.

Today we stripped out a length of wall with a double problem. A mature sycamore was heaving it over and a small tree was rooted on the cope sending a thick taproot through the masonry into the ground. As we cut it out I totted up 30 + rings. Edgar A' Chuimreach chuimseach thought it might be elm. If so then we reflected that it was seeded when stories of Dutch Elm disease in England filled the airwaves. With the disease still spreading through Scotland we wished that this elm had been luckier.

With the tree out I was tapping at the mortar when, between hammer blows, three newts appeared. I stopped and scooped them up. I know that they play possum, striking angular poses as if dead, but I had just been hitting the place where they emerged with a hammer so they might have been. One darted off my palm and fell to the ground so I knew it was OK. Another wriggled so it was fine too, but the third one didn't move. I looked in his eye to see if it were clouding over but it might just have been too soon. Even when I burrowed into the heap of leaves against the far side of the wall and placed them in the cool hollow I didn't know whether or not number three was still playing particularly good possum.

They were Palmate newts, Arc-luachrach bheag, pretty dinky fellows. I didn't have my camera but I borrowed this picture from http://rxwildlife.org.uk. With the rich moss growing on the wall, it could easily have been taken today.