My darling wife qualified for the Scottish Senior Lady's Open Golf Championship at Carnoustie Golf Links this past summer . . . and I tagged along. They have played golf here since the 16th century.
Carnoustie is a beautiful links course along the Firth of Forth.
I followed my wife's group for a few holes before heading off on a walk around the adjacent countryside.
The course was set up so that non-golfers could enjoy the course as a nice place to walk, like a park.
The Carnoustie course sits in some very beautiful countryside.
The Firth of Forth and the village of Carnoustie in the background. I sat here for 30 minutes enjoying the rare sunshine and the foft breezes.
There were several nice beaches with walkers enjoying the view.
I found this painted rock along the sea and wondered if it was Art or just spilled paint.
A dirt road ran around the outside of the course lined with summer wild flowers.
A fine summer day in Scotland. Ah Nature!
Wild flowers everywhere.
These yellow wonders were everywhere in the serene nature.
Oh! Maybe not so serene after all! Well . . . where's the warning flag?
I heard the pop-pop-pop of semi-automatic weapons about the same time I saw the red warning flag. It seems the beautiful golf course and beaches were right next to a rifle range!
I went up over a hill, still behind the fence, to see if I could get a glimpse of the shooting range and instead discovered this sleeping soldier playing hookie! I dared not wake him.
I encountered several commemorative signs in my walk around the course. I'm sure true golf aficionados would love these (and know what they were about).
I saw this all summer: flies doing the work of bees . . .
The Aberdeen-Edinburgh main train line ran along one side of the course. This old Victorian era foot bridge was a work of art.
As I sat at the 18th hole waiting for my wife to finish her round, a wedding party suddenly materialized around me.
I had the chance to practice my wedding photography . . . until the real wedding photographer gave me the evil eye.
This little boy in his kilt was lost in a fantasy of the olde days.
It had been a good day, but we couldn't leave without visiting the Pro Shop for some Carnoustie memorabilia.