In Scotland, a den is a narrow, often wooded valley, usually following a small burn or rivulet. Craighall Den, the subject of this post, is hidden on the outskirts of the town of Ceres in Fife, and it offers a gentle walk through some woodland, ending at the ruins of an old limekiln. It is quite popular, and very seldom have I visited without running into at least a few other walkers and, often, horseback riders.
I discovered the walk through the den in the midst of lockdown in March 2021, when we were desperate for outdoor adventures but could not leave Fife, and so I consulted my favourite walking site, Walkhighlands, which despite its name details walks throughout Scotland. The route suggested involved parking in the town centre and walking up what turned out to be an abominably muddy farm track, to join the den almost at its furthest point.
I have never tried this circular again, instead have several times parked in Ceres and walked an extra few hundred yards up the road to join the path. This adds a few steps that pass some lovely farm houses and an old mill that I secretly covet (or not so secretly to anyone with whom I have walked this route).
Ceres itself is a picturesque village full of historic stone houses and bridges, complete with an old tavern and a town green – the Bow Butts, where archery would have been practiced. It will likely earn itself a post of its own, but for now, here is the bridge next to the central car park, where one starts the route up the hill.
The day that inspires this post however was one that came about entirely by chance – I had been to Cupar shopping and there were major roadworks that encouraged me to take the long way home. It was an atmospheric autumnal day with heavy fog everywhere except Ceres, where sun broke through as I entered the town limits. Almost without thinking, I turned right and up towards the den, deciding a short walk might be nice. As I parked in the small lot at the road end of the walk, I quickly discovered what a good choice I had made. November colours of yellow, gold and amber were perfectly highlighted against the sun and peeking blue sky, and I found myself in a perfect autumn paradise.
Despite wearing shoes entirely inappropriate for walking, I was encouraged by the colours to do the whole walk – about 30 mins in total so not hugely challenging. The path stays close to the burn before eventually climbing up to the ridge above as the valley sides grow steeper; on the left is a steading and farm with an old stone farmhouse. Eventually one reaches the endpoint of the walk, which as mentioned above is an old lime kiln. Below you see the grassy path leading up to it, as well as a picture I took one summer as we took this walk.
At this point, there is a rock face to the left through the trees and on the right one can either walk out on top of the kiln or follow the path down the hill and around it. There has been occasional evidence here of local teens using it as a place to hang out, and once remnants of a fire, but there are active farms on all sides so I cannot imagine there is much secrecy.
It seemed a shame to head back to the car, but I had shopping to get home and my other half to collect from work, so I enjoyed the sun glinting through the trees onto the burn on my return walk.
For reference, here is how the burn normally looks…I’ve tried to catch it many times but have never been particularly happy with it. As anyone who has read this blog is aware I have an affection for burns and rivers, but this one has often eluded me in that the light is often more grey than blue or, as on this autumn day, yellow.
There is no shortage of charming dens in Scotland and even in Fife, but this one holds a particular place in my mind, not least because of the stunning autumn walk. In the spring it is graced by carpets of crocus and snowdrops, and I am constantly struck by how peaceful and quiet the path always is, even when comparatively busy with walkers. I look forward to a return visit in the near future.
The Wandering Medievalist 