That magical moment, when all you can see is fog … below you. Today’s vista is from the summit of Ragleth Hill, and in the distance it was just possible to make out Brown Clee Hill, Shropshire’s highest peak, poking above the fog blanket.
Page 2 of 36
From this vantage point, the journey of the water of Sour Milk Gill can be seen stretching along Easedale, towards its confluence with Easedale Beck and the River Rothay.
Storm Conor may be a couple of hundred miles away, but standing upright beside Easedale Tarn was not easy. Feel the force of Mother Nature!
Christmas Day, and the beauty of ever-changing Christmas Lights. Merry Christmas.
It all fell yesterday. And now the crystal clear raindrops are running along the River Rothay near Ambleside.
A wander round Grasmere today, and the wind is whipping up the waves. Quite hypnotic, really.
A late evening walk around Grasmere today. The wind is getting up. Storm Barbara is on her way, and the River Rothay is beginning to rage.
It’s strange. December has been a dry month (so far) here in the Lake District, and many of the rivers are low. Yet the River Brathay is still flowing well at Skelwith Bridge.
It’s a bus ride! It’s years since I’ve been on a bus! Quite a novelty. (And they have usb chargers on them.)
Wandering into Carding Mill Valley on my walk this morning, this bright yellow/green clump of mistletoe stood out against the grey, lichen-covered branches of this tree. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!
I spent several minutes watching this farmer trimming this hedge this morning. Watching him manoeuvre the tractor back and forth several times made me realise that hedge trimming is not as easy as it looks. I think he was relieved to get a straight run at this section when he did.
It’s been a while since I last saw the pigs, when doing my walk. Is it me, or do they look fatter? 😝
Low mist and low cloud today – a definite capping of the tops of the Stretton Hills.
It was another cloudy, dank day today, so I went for a wander through Rectory Woods. It’s stupid but I’ve walked past this tree many times, but today it’s peeling bark seemed to leap out at me. Had it peeling before, and tis was my first time of noticing it? Or was there a new, larger tree trunk erupting from deep within it overnight?
(Turn up the volume a bit.) Look closely, and in the tree you can just make out a robin. He seemed chirpy that the sun was trying to break through the mist this morning.
A foggy morning this morning, usually indicative of stillness. But listen carefully, and the constant running water of Carding Mill can be heard. The sight is of still water, but the sound is of running water.
Sometimes, when the sun is at the right angle, it’s light catches the contours of the land below the Gaer Stone, and reveals the undulation of the ground. It’s not one steady-sliding slope, but a wrinkle of topsoil.
The sun was working hard to break through the clouds this morning, but it meant it illuminated some really interesting patterns in the sky …
Those of you who know me will know I’m not a poet. Or rather, should I say, poetry is not a form of writing that comes naturally to me. But that’s one of the joys of going to a writers’ group … because it exposes you to writing and workshops that you wouldn’t naturally choose to go to. And so it was a few months ago at the writers’ group I go to, when we had a poetry workshop.
A dog walker in Carding Mill Valley this morning … their dog enjoying running though the stream in a moment of happiness.