The inner glow of warm soup

Yesterday's weather was a relief from the wild and wet stuff we'd been having recently. A gentle calm day with hints of sunshine between slowly moving clouds. The chilly breeze was still playing up however it was far less mean and as long as we either moved along with it or managed to find shelter, it was not a problem.

Earlier, I'd made a 'what-is-in-the-fridge-goes-in-the-pot' type soup. One of those that has all the vegetables which although fine but not as crisp or as fresh as they should be. With a couple of handfuls of lentils, a tin of mixed beans and a generous pinch of Cajun spices added in for good measure and the whole lot blitzed to a thick and gloriously warm stick-to-your-ribs soup. 

Himself and I, warmed and full, stepped into wellies, shrugged on a fleece and let a rather excited dilly dog drag us up on to the moors. We jokingly (well only half jokingly) said that we were being weighed down by our lunch, it felt like the gravitational pull of our soup-filled tums was greatly impeding our progress! 

The lower fields are beginning to fill with lambs - making my heart sing.

It was lovely being out, sitting on the edge of a grassy knoll as we watched a male kestrel balance as he looked for his dinner and listened to the curlews and lapwings.  A welcome sound as they return from their wintering grounds. We are lucky that we can just step out of our house and be on the hills in a few minutes. We have appreciated that more than ever over the last 12 months or so. 

Our view was in 'layers', the closest layer being moorland tussocks, stone walls and farms, then the village in the valley, the middle distant hills in shades of dusty blue, then the far hills brilliant white under a thick coating of snow. Despite the sun, still a spring-weak glow, we had to move before we got too cold. 

Still fuelled and still warm from our soup, we continued along the drover's track as it trailed up and over the undulating landscape. We stopped at our furthest point - an untidy and squat pile of enormous boulders which loom over the neighbouring valley. Sitting here feels airy and exposed but today we managed to find a sheltered corner for a break with tea, chocolate and biscuits.

Turning for home, we chose a short and winding path through a predominantly silver birch woodland. It is always quiet and still in these trees. A safe space for the wild folk who live in this valley ...

We felt so privileged to see the roe deer, although I managed to photograph the buck as the doe was slightly lower down in the woodland and difficult to snap. My camera tried to focus on the trees around her, however the buck stood still and watched us curiously. He was still in his winter coat and his antlers still had their velvet covering.  We stood - us and Moss and the deer for what felt quite an age before the spell was broken and the doe quietly stepped away and Moss picked up a stick. Time to go home.

We finally returned home, via the river to swill down a muddy mutt (who thinks this part of the walk is the bestest!). It is one of our favourite local walks and today's gave that little bit extra and we loved it 😊