As THE lingering rain clears and the sun sneaks out in the early evening, East Lothian is often bathed in a calming, watery sunlight.

When workers are returning home for dinner and the day trippers have packed their spades and pails, it is not difficult to find long swathes of golden beaches completely deserted.

Gullane, Seton Sands, Pease Bay and Belhaven are all glorious, as good as any in the Mediterranean or Bahamas.

The fact that the temperature at this time of year is moderate rather than ‘scorchio’ is, for me, an added advantage.

Energies are not sapped, skin not red sore and a gentle stroll is an easy pleasure.

This year, however, things are different.

There is a quiet melancholy in the air and a stillness that lacks some background companionship. Gone is the delightful distraction of the sound of wildlife.

No more the majestic skeins of proud geese flying to nest.

Gone the swoops of seagulls squawking and diving, nose bombing at great speed into the tides, squabbling over squirming fish.

Gone the heron that nested superiorly, year on year, stretching its wings and gliding away only if disturbed by its mate.

Gone are the thousands of tightly packed nests clinging on the cliff edges with screaming guillemots, clucking over their young.

Dead birds on the beaches alert walkers that the devastating avian flu is still virulent and hazardous (don’t touch but contact ranger@eastlothian.gov.uk).

It is a salutary reminder of the delicate balance of life, and the continual effects of our human pandemic, still stealthily stealing our loved ones. Without the intervention of brilliant science, we could have suffered so much more.

In Italy, especially in the south and in smaller towns outside the large cities, it is still common practice to put up black and white posters of images of loved ones who have passed away.

Heading the poster, with the name of the person, are the words, ‘non è più’.

This short declaration simply translates as, ‘no longer with us’. I suppose the equivalent in our parlance would be ‘lest we forget’.

I don’t think we will.