As we crossed over the temporary footbridge beside the Hatton Inn last night,  Mary commented on how strange it was that the lovely little burn flowing beneath us could have brought the devastation that it did.  How could a such a small stream tear away the structures of the road and the bridge?  But it did.

My mind went back to a time when we were driving through the Negev desert in Israel, heading south from the Dead Sea.   How surprised I was to to see warning signs for floods.

The landscape was parched dry, the sun was blazing  down and it was only an air-conditioned car that made it tolerable for pale skinned Scots like us.

And it was not just the familiar triangular warning road signs, but there were poles at the side of the road as it crossed the bone dry wadis, like the snow poles we see in Scotland.   If the water is up to this level – don’t drive any further!   But there was no water in sight.

But water can come very quickly and when it does rain, the dried up watercourses can become raging torrents very, very quickly.   I saw it for myself in Oman some years later when Tropical Cyclone Gonu struck and large parts of the city of Muscat were damaged and many roads in the countryside were washed away by the flood waters.   It is the flood waters, even in dry desert places that do the damage.

No one can accuse Hatton of being a dry desert land, but our little burn rose very quickly that night and the damage was done.

By the way, does anyone know what that little burn is called?   It is not marked on the maps and I have not heard anyone using a name.  Do tell me if you know its name.  If it does not have a name, then perhaps we should give it one in honour of all the work that has ensued from the damage of that December night.   Perhaps I will write later with some suggestions for a name.

With the work on the Bailey bridge progressing, I thought it was time to take a closer look at the intricate structure that soon will be conveying vehicles and pedestrians into the Hatton Farm area.