Yours Truly relaxing after my walk to Pollok Country Gardens in Glasgow, ScotlandA six mile walk from the West End of Glasgow might seem distant for some, but I grew up against the Rocky Mountains. An absence of thin air, crag, or grade along the route means my trek to Pollok Country Park is relaxing and invigorating.
The Clyde Arc Bridge is a "winking" bridge; one that tilts on an ellipsis
I cross the handsome Clyde Arc Bridge to the opposite side of the river. Over the last two decades, Glaswegians built huge convention centers, office parks, and museums along the banks of the Clyde.
Further south of this divide, Indian and Pakistani immigrants enliven the red-brick Victorian townships. Foreign proprietors have claimed the spaces once belonging to Scotch dressmakers and tobacconists and dressed the windows with glittering saris and hookahs.
Above: the afternoon light filtered through the treetops at Pollok Country Park
Below: Scotland is home to 5 percent of the world's total mosses, making it the richest nation in terms of bryophytes. On this tree alone are 3 of its 1000 varieties.
Below: Scotland is home to 5 percent of the world's total mosses, making it the richest nation in terms of bryophytes. On this tree alone are 3 of its 1000 varieties.
At the edge of Lochinch, where the park is located, I observe how the highway gives into a thick conifer forest. I can barely extend an arm between the trunks of the thrity and forty foot trees. It’s the kind of forest that would have inspired me to draw stories in crayon on butcher paper when I was a child.
Highland cow and calf
I crash on a park bench of contemporary design carved from calcium hardened wood. On the path to my right, I spy a naturally felled wych elm sprouting ferns, moss, and mushrooms. I walk to my left, and highland cattle come into view.
The cows have just calved. There are four youngsters among the horn-and-shag faces, resting in the shade. I can feel how the air is still wet low to the ground even on this unusually warm day.
The White Cart River
Elsewhere in the park, the White Cart River sounds to me just like its namesake as the footsteps of joggers run past it like a team at a gallop.
The home of the Burrell Collection
The angular cottage I enter next is the Burrell Collection. Burrell was fascinated with the fine art of his time and befriended Rodin among others. Degas “The Rehearsal” is among the famous works Burrell collected. Many spaces in the mezzanine gallery are vacant as the curators lease works out for retrospectives.
Burrell rescued stained glass from deteriorating European cathedrals
Like other industrialists of the time, Burrell also used his wealth to preserve artifacts of the world’s great cultures that were threatened by exposure or neglect. Here, I can almost touch a hand-painted pane of stained glass from a demolished 12 th century cathedral. I see my reflection in Elizabethan armor polished and stacked upright.
A sculptural manuscript from the Burrell Collection
The curators permanently host Burrell’s pottery, sculpture and other fragments from Egypt, China, Japan, Greece, Rome, and Mesopotamia. Burrell’s interest is the only thread that connects them.
I imagine how his friends must have come to understand his perspective on his own life, hearing the story of his choice to acquire a statue of Egyptian revenge goddess Sehkmet, or how, in a market of illuminated manuscripts valued for their gold, he was drawn to the earthy alabaster carvings of a rare sculptural gospel.
One of the old study rooms at the BurrellNear to the displays are the study rooms where visitors to the collection were once welcomed. Now, the elegant study rooms themselves are a display within the collection. I step in close to the velvet ropes and smell the carved, unfinished mahogany. The early wrought-iron electric lamps are still working!
Yours Truly beside of the carved mantlepieces at the Burrell Collection
