Dumbarton Bridge

Spanning the River Leven just up from where it meets the mighty Clyde, the “old bridge” is still something I’m drawn to whenever I’m back in Dumbarton. It’s not that the bridge itself holds much significance, just a few memories of walking over it on the way to Levengrove Park, leaning over to peer into the water, watching shoals of mullet glide around.

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I grew up with a dog. No, not JUST a dog… She was part of the family, always there, she went everywhere with us for the most part. She was a bit daft, as golden retrievers are prone to be, but she didn’t have a nasty bone in her body. She loved giving people presents (including the oft recalled ‘tortoise incident’). I miss my dog. I miss taking her out for walks. Brushing her, playing in the back garden, taking her to the park. I miss Sintra. The nearest park to us was Levengrove (Dumbarton Common was the nearest piece of ground but was surrounded by roads) and every weekend, and some week nights, we’d pile into the car and …

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