B12

Whilst waiting for the bus to Jedburgh I filmed birds entering in and out of the bus shelter were I was waiting, it almost felt as though they were attempting to frighten me away. Perhaps they were nesting, however this is a bus shelter, for a human that needed shade.

The lady clipping her huge hedge took ages to clip a few branches; I wondered how long the job would take to finish. The bus dropped me in Jedburgh minutes before my appointment. The receptionists were nice but one nurse felt evil as she slow walked past me, she looked at her wrist watch then shook the bracelet as if the watch were wet; strangers used to do this with keys. The world is becoming a very dark place to be.

I am just glad to be rid of gruelling symptoms of pernicious anaemia; people dwell in dark places; their choice and I'm not due another intramuscular injection for twelve weeks, perhaps, this autumn I'll self-administer the next dose.

In the afternoon I took a ride to Nesbit via a footpath near Monteviot house, ancestral family home of a branch of Clan Kerr.

Me and Charlie walked on a parallel to footpath last night, on the other side of the River Teviot. Riding the mountain bike was proving much easier, and quicker than walking.

I realised that I had ridden onto private ground then searched for the right of way that had mistaken me; people have the right to privacy, whoever they are; that is a human right. This is written in Protocol 1, Article 1 of the UK Human Rights Act 1998.

Article 2: a right to life. Article 8: protects respect for private life, family life, home and correspondence. Article 14: Protection from discrimination of these rights and freedoms. It is written that EVERYBODY within the UK is protected by the Human Rights Act 1998. Anyway, five hundred yards South I returned onto the public right of way. The river looked bonnie, there was a crane, but alas, I did not bring by bridge camera today.

East and West.

I don't know the name of these flowers but the scent was wonderfully sweet.

I found Monteviot suspension bridge.

Riding over the bridge was easy, however, stopping in the middle, placing me feet onto the wood, the bridge began to sway side to side. Settled my stomach and took two pictures.

West and East.

And along the riverside towards Nesbit.

Signalled Charlie a view of me riding my bike.

There is not much to see in Nesbit, I was hot, slightly tired and thirsty, so returned to Ancrum, the cycle track was a leafy green.

The path became a road and returned me to the A68, I crossed and opened a gate to my right, and peddle down a narrow path northwards, turned left then right, over a bridge and I was back in Ancrum. This village became my home, and I'll fight "strangers" alienating me. This weary evening I'm questioning why my neighbour is now acting as though I don't exist.