![]() ![]() If it was not agreed beforehand that Doon Hill was a “fairy forest,” you would still sense that it was in some minor way enchanted. I read of Kirk’s story and think it an admirable specimen of small-town spookiness. There is an information board outside the churchyard that details the various superstitions and folklore that can be connected with this site. The grave of the Reverend Robert Kirk is located in this churchyard but I am not yet totally clued-up as to who he is. The headstones are set out very plainly, as though they and the stripped-down church have been all lined up together under the sky, ready to be inspected. ![]() It is a little before twilight and I am going to intrude upon the eerie peace at Doon Hill.īeyond the town’s pale, I pass the shell of a church that stands roofless and desolate within a busy cemetery. It makes a good base for exploring the Trossachs, which are mostly to the north, but this evening I am proceeding south. Aberfoyle is a pleasantly cranky little town that is nestled between the fine hills and abundant forests to the east of Loch Lomond. ![]()
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