Steampunk and vintage

A chance reminder that there was a steampunk and vintage car event this weekend had us making spontaneous plans for a micro-adventure!

And I am so glad we did 😊 Himself, Moss and I jumped into our 2CV and headed over the moors to Hebden Bridge.

There were not as many steampunk dressed folk as there have been in the past which was a shame however those who'd made the effort looked impressive.

The 400 Roses (Quilt Person) folk dancers and musicians delighted visitors in the market square and I loved their costumes - particularly the ribbon and bell festooned bustles!

We wandered through the market but although the stalls were varied and interesting - it appeared that business was slow - people were looking but not spending.  A sad reflection of the times. We were enticed by the rather deliciously inviting fragrance of Asian street food and once we'd chosen, we sat in the park and scoffed to our hearts content. There may have been a lot of finger licking and lip smacking noises. 

We then crossed over the canal on to the sports fields which, for the weekend, had been turned to a HUGE car park of over 300 vintage cars, stalls and music festival. Himself was almost overwhelmed by all the 'car candy' and we spent a very happy afternoon checking almost each...and...every....car. He was most definitely a happy man😊

We knew that Hebden Bridge would be parked up so we found a spot just outside (see photo on the left) of the town and walked down what felt like a gazillion very steep steps (ooh my creaky knees!) the second zoomed in photo (on the right) is the view over the far half of the vintage car field taken from where we'd parked.

Moss thought today was a 'RUBBISH' dog walking sort of day, we shall have to make it up to her and soon🐾😄We left once we agreed that it was getting a bit too busy for comfort - even for an outdoor event - it began to feel a little claustrophobic. How we've changed .........

We returned back over the moors and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in the garden with buckets of tea - bliss.  xxxxx

Chasing adventure

On a whim, we went out, we had planned to stay home this weekend, do a few chores, bit of gardening, keep the cats and the house company. But the cats went out, the garden promised to wait and Zeb was calling.

We packed light, only intending it to be a day's walking, taking food and warm clothing and (on a just-in-case basis) I slipped our toothbrushes and a change of clothing into the van. If the evening turned out to be beautiful and wild, we may just linger longer and find somewhere to stay.

The forecast had it for sunny all day with the very occasional and probably miles away showers. So we just jumped into the cab and pointed Zeb to the hills, following his nose and stopping where he took us. There was light rain on the windscreen, but it did not matter, we were off on a micro-adventure with a bit of a devil may care feel in the air!

As we parked up, the heavy clouds massing slowly above our heads could no longer hold their load. We only just managed to close the door behind us as a sharp shower thundered down. It did not matter - we had the kettle on, we were warm and dry and while we curled our fingers around far too hot mugs, we watched as the view slowly began to clear.

Boots and coats, hats and scarves firmly attached, we stepped out of a dripping wet van into the most sublime lemon yellow light with scudding grey and white clouds. Moss could not be more excited, leaning forward into her lead, nose forward and ears alert.

Our trail, one we have walked for years, brings back so many memories. The one that is the most vivid is of a walk before Youngest was born although he was there with us. Eldest was barely two and a half and we'd not been living in the uk for long.  I was sorely missing my African home and very uncomfortably and heavily pregnant. We walked up the drovers track, into the woodland and through the small but beautiful wildflower meadow. A small Eldest ran ahead, his face beaming and his blonde hair ruffling in the breeze. We sat, the three (four) of us, Eldest sharing an orange with me as we looked over the view. Seems such a long time ago - yet with a blink it was only yesterday.

 Our present walk took us through the  same woodland, we had been watching the horizon with one eye as the sky was darkening and seemed to be rolling towards us again. We sheltered in the trees, listening to the rain dashing against the leaves while we were just lightly spattered. It was a rather special feeling, listening to the deluge around us, watching through the branches as the sky changed colour, hearing the wind tearing through the leaves whilst we were dry and protected.

Then, as quickly as it arrived, the rain left and for one glorious moment or two, a rich flash of sunshine. The rainbow, fleeting, was beautiful as was it's softer pastel shaded second bow.

Our return to the van was a mix of gentle sun slipping through the heavy grey wash of clouds, the colours muted with spots of brilliance. Stripping off the wet coats and boots, rubbing Moss dry and feeding her we decided that as much as we would love to stay, the call of the house, a warm and crackling fire with the cats was greater. So we jumped into the cab, drove Zeb to another spot with a far reaching view and ate whilst we watched shower after shower race across the distant valley and surrounding hills before setting off for home.

Often the not planned-plans are the best. The simple pleasure of walking, good company, a dilly dog and the delight of returning to the van, putting on the kettle and wrapping chilled hands around a steaming mug - bliss.

Sunday will be the day for gardening and the cats - I promise!

One of those moments

Today Himself and I wistfully acknowledged the swifts have gone.

We'd seperately been keeping a half cocked ear for them for the last few days and today, we reluctantly agreed... yes, they have left.

The swallows are still about, flitting around, getting their maps and travel plans ready and it wont be long before they all start congregating on 'phone lines and organising their day of departure.

I miss the screaming parties of swifts as they cut through the sky above our heads at phenomenal speeds.  These birds are, to me the spirit of summer. When they go, summer goes too.

Another animal that has a hold over me is the wild brown hare. Secretive and wary, it is a magical moment when you come across, however fleeting, a hare quietly getting on with it's own life.

Last week, during a rather long and very warm walk, (over ten miles in the end) we came across this special moment. 

To be honest, I was tired, very footsore, limping slightly as my knee although as good as it will ever be, gets tired too. Our conversation had dried up as had our water and tea in the flask, it was now just the final push to get home.

And, as we trudged our way up a dusty farm track, I was halted by this site - we stopped immediately, hissed at Moss to lie down and ..... apart from my camera coming up slowly, we stood stock still.

I could barely breath, especially as the hare after what felt like an age of not moving, quietly began to lope towards us. Unhurried, unworried and unaware.

Then, after the hare had come delightfully close, it must have spotted us, and calmly sprang up on to the banking into the field and vanished.

Wow.

We stood for a moment, stunned by this precious moment. Then continued with our walk, only this time we had a bit more oomph in our step and our conversation has returned and was filled with what we had just seen.

Now, as I type this, sitting at home, I can still feel the heat of that day, taste the dust and smell the ripening grain crops in the fields and the hot pine tree resin scents that surrounded us.

Magic!

what comes after a Friday?

Saturday of course

Saturday was a day of three parts.

Part 1 

A warm day, warm, warm start. We had late breakfast on a hill high above the sea. But before we could go down to the water's edge, we had a hill to climb. Well, a hill with several mini hills atop. The air felt thick and dry, Moss went from boggy patch to boggy patch, wallowing happily. By the time we got to the top I was very glad I had my hat and a large bottle of cold water - we managed to find a much needed breeze while we sat amongst the rocky outcrop. We scanned the horizon with my spotting-scope. It was lovely watching distance views, small people and even small dogs on the beach, tractors working their fields, motorbikes trundling along narrow lanes, small boats slicing through the water, trains sliding through the countryside.  Our return back to Zeb was a lot easier, not only was it DOWNwards but it was into the breeze - bliss.

The sea was calling and I was not about to ignore her dulcet tones.

 

Part 2 

We pulled up alongside the beach - a rubbly pebbly scrubby sort of precious strip of land between a carpark and the sea. The air was salty and fresh beneath the jewel-blue sky. The sea pushed out lazy rolls of small waves and cheerfully growing between the pebbles were the smiliest of faces I have seen in a long time.

Moss turned into a selkie within seconds of running into the salty water. I have never seen a dog dive under water and surf instinctively as she did. We worked our way along the water, my eyes just ate the view, skimming over the stones, soaring over towards the horizon, following a skane of gulls flying through the view ... each one a panacea for my soul. 

Part 3

We lingered, the tide slipped out and the pebbles now fringed a wide sand beach strewn with pools of mirror like puddles. The sky turned from a clear blue to a rich apricot splashed with purple clouds making for a spectacular light show.  I made us something to eat and we sat and watched the sun slowing slip down behind the horizon. We dried Moss, wrapped her in a fresh towel, then lifted a tired dog onto her bed in the cab of the van. Packing completed, everything stowed away securely; we looked at the now dark sky, the sun fully gone - time to go home. 

Zeb - thank you for a lovely break - having you has opened our small world into one of many possibilities and advantures. You have given us the freedom to quietly escape and still maintain the pandemic restrictions and you have made a dog very very very happy.

Until next time xxxxx