Almondell, in detail

A busy morning, a busy week, a busy season. My mind turns over the issues of the day as I lock my bike to a post by the Mid Calder car park. Yet, such thoughts quickly vapourise as I step into the morning sun’s intense rays. I shield my eyes from the glare, searing low over the horizon from a cloudless pale blue winter sky.

I set off, crossing the footbridge over the Linhouse Water, just as it meets the River Almond; it’s the first of many crossings I will make this morning. A woodpigeon is feasting on hawthorn berries by the railing.

The path climbs the far bank, bearing left, past trees adorned with holly and ivy, whose fruits will also provide important sustenance for many birds over winter, the ivy packing more energy for its weight than a Mars bar.

The white noise rush of water over a weir fills the air; a heron stands with elegant poise at its base, while two crows indulge in an aerial scuffle above.

I walk on. The gush of the weir recedes, and the waters calm to a laminar, tranquil flow. Reflected in the water’s gently rippled surface are the forms of a great variety of trees. These act like monuments to Henry Erskine, founder of the Almondell Estate over two-hundred years ago, who laid out some of these original walks and had a fondness for woodland gardens. There are sycamores, willow, limes and beech. There are non-native conifers, including sequoiadendron, growing to great heights on the far bank. There are larches too, dressed in gold, needles ready to fall and be replaced with starbursts of green come spring.

I watch as a squirrel deftly retrieves a larch cone from a branch overhanging the water. As it ascends with its bounty, it is joined by another in the branches above. They dislodge golden needles which begin to fall like snow around me and on the rocks below.

Larch needles underfoot

I cross the river by another footbridge, following the signs for Cycle Route 75 and the Shale Trail. This takes me along by the canal feeder channel which is drawn from the river at this point and runs alongside it. Soon, I pass under one of the nine mighty arches of the Camps Viaduct. A narrow, peaked-roof wooden shelter has been built under the arch to protect pedestrians - it looks like it has been lifted straight out of Hobbiton. A little farther on, I come upon a majestic old beech tree by the path, giant roots running like quicksilver through the deep carpet of fallen leaves lying below its immense form. It is surrounded by young beech saplings – its children and grandchildren.

The old beech tree roots

I pass, but do not cross, the Almondell Bridge and descend towards the water’s edge to take in the view of this impressive structure, which crouches protectively over the watercourse – elegant, yet emanating strength and solidity. Down by the rocky banks, the air is thick with a mossy dampness which transports me instantaneously back to childhood days messing about by the river.

Keeping to the lower (blue signposted) path from here allows a better view of the most diminutive of today’s bridges, the pretty Dell Bridge, with its babbling burn beneath. Continuing on this path, I eventually emerge into what was originally the estate’s walled garden. Two stone walls remain, along which a variety of young fruit trees have recently been planted by the Friends of Almondell and Calderwood Country Park, in a nod to the history of what was once a productive market garden.

Dell Bridge

Emerging at the eastern side of the garden, I join the tarmac road which heads out of the park towards Broxburn. However, after a short way, I turn left at a signpost, heading uphill on a grassy path. I turn left again at the top of the rise to track back along the side of the valley. Here, the vegetation consists of hazel, gorse and smaller trees, interspersed with dark stems of decaying thistle and dock. I gaze over the valley’s treetops to East Calder beyond. The sounds of construction – which curiously I could not hear in the valley below – now drift across from the far side. I continue until the path leads me down a few steps and switchbacks to rejoin the main route.

This time I cross the Almondell Bridge, turning right on reaching the far side to cut across the grassy plain bounded by the river’s meander, walking adjacent to the Route 75 cycleway. I then come upon perhaps the most curious bridge of the day. This one carries the canal feeder over the river, covered over with a metal plate walkway for pedestrians. Pausing partway across, I enjoy the view of the river and viaduct. Curious rock formations rise from the riverbed; vertical rock strata coated in bright green moss – like the bony armour of some gigantic, submerged lizard. These are from the Burdie-House limestone layer, part of the West Lothian Oil Shales group.

Almondell Bridge

Once across, I retrace my steps from the outward leg back to the car park at Mid Calder. As I do so, I recall my feelings as I set off, noting how my walk has quietened thoughts of our busy human world and its attendant worries, this beautiful park acting like a protective crucible from the clamour.

A couple of hours in nature may just be the perfect antidote to the season’s stresses – where better to spend it than amidst the joys of lovely Almondell?

With grateful thanks to the Friends of Almondell & Calderwood Country Park.

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Published in Konect December 2024

Author: William Weir

All photos by William Weir