Winter winds blow

With heavy fast moving rain forecast and winds lashing the trees back and forth it seemed a 'good time' to go for a walk .... said Moss...... and we (strangely) agreed.

Wrapped up well - to the point on waddling not walking and finding it almost impossible to bend, we set off. Down the main road through the village, past the fairy light encrusted Christmas tree outside of the community centre, turning right up dead duck hill (double quick puff) then right again up a small track towards a cluster of houses. Although we know it is a bit early in the season - we are on the watch out for lambs. We know that they have started to appear.

Round the goose-field to the rec. Moss races the wind as she chases her frizbee, hurtling along the grass at breakneck speed. Following the far edge, we stepped back out of the grounds, across puddle lane and into the sheep filled souterills. Moss threw herself into the winter 'lake' and steamed herself cool again, willing us to let her off her lead, but with hugely pregnant ewes watching warily - her request was refused.

We walk through the upper souterill field making a slight detour past the Highland coo field - checking for calves, they appear soon after Christmas, large fluffy teddy bear beasties hunkering down in the moorland grasses while their mothers watch carefully through thick and wind tousled fringes.

Then down the lane to the nature reserve, still one eye out for lambs and now hares. I can hear the tinkling of the windchimes as we pass chicken accident quarry. Then we leave the lane and turn left up the Ferndene, skipping puddles and dodging flooded paths, past Sagar's Lake, the meadow, the picnic grounds, play park and then back on to the road. A sneaky turn right onto David's walk then home following the main road into the village.

Our walks are are memory maps, with names from village history or from our own stories. Some from when the boys were little and found it difficult to describe where they were, some are anecdotal tales from friends and others associated with events that occurred. All very personal to us yet instantly recognisable to others.

Home now, we managed to avoid the rain but we feel wind battered. So with lunch consumed and mugs of tea being cradled in fingers, we can hear the wind howling around the house and calling down the chimney - but we don't mind. It is all part of the season, the place we live and our lives.

Shadows

When I wrote my previous post - I felt a little numb - it felt rather frivolous wittering on what was occurring in my day when there is dreadful aggressive self-aggrandisement by a dangerous man against normal everyday folk who are suffering at his immoral hand. 

On Saturday, whilst at work, I was invited to walk around a local nature reserve which we are affiliated to, and as I felt my head was full and needed clearing, I accepted. Due to time constraints we yomped at a very quick pace, up and around and back in just under an hour and a half - nearly five miles later the fog in my head although still there seemed less oppressive.

On Sunday once we'd completed a few home chores Himself laid out a local walk we could do after lunch.

 He knows that I love this particular route, one that includes a short drover's track that we affectionately call 'Hare Lane'. It is not guaranteed to spot hares however we have seen them there often enough for the track to be awarded such a name. As we walked through 'Long Lamb Field' we decided that we would like to see not only hares but lapwing and curlew. 

Despite the chilly breeze, the gentle spring sunshine was so warming, so hopeful. We traversed up and over our boggy hill ridge into the next valley surrounded by the plaintive trill of first a single curlew then a couple and finally small drifts of birds. They flew on large curved wings following the line of moorland grasses, landing and whistling then setting off again.

We stopped and gazed at the valley view and I noticed our shadow, us two and a dilly dog.  It confirmed to me that we are so lucky - we are not anything special or amazing, but we are who we are and we do what we can do - we have donated, we certainly care and am sending positive love and light to those who need, thank you Vix and thank you ALL who commented and confirmed that you too feel the same and do care. I thought of you all, thought of Ukraine as we listened to the melodic trilling of lapwing, freshly returned from their coastal overwintering. 

It made me realise that life does go on, the weather has improved, summer birds are returning and spring bulbs are hosting hungry bees.

We turned for home, the air was cooling despite the sunlight. Moss had thrown herself into every mud puddle she could and was sporting a thick layer of dark mud and a silly grin on her face.

Again a walk helped release the fog in my head, it is still there but a lot more orderly. Thank you again for your comments - they certainly helped too - here is to hope and positive mindset and love xx

 And yes - we saw a hare. A large male who bolted from beneath an ancient hawthorn - then stopped. He sat up, ears tall and watched us for a moment as we stood still and held our breath. Then in a blink of an eye - he vanished into the moorland grasses.

wow - I loved Sunday!

Sunday started as an at-home-day, we had jobs to do, bulbs to plant, washing to work through, general tidying and house care, when we said, almost as one .... 'Why don't we go out in the van - TONIGHT?' There was a moment's silence as we stared at each other, then we sprang into action. 

Clothes were collected, food sorted, boots, coats, hats and gloves found, camera and phone chargers switched on and the van packed. Within a couple of hours of sorting out the house and garden, we were driving off to the lakes. Darkness fell fairly quickly and although it was early evening when we arrived - it felt very late!

Our chosen spot for the night was a coastal road with permissible parking for vans and after we'd eaten, we soon fell asleep. In the morning our view was of the frosty estuary and the bluest of clear blue skies.

Himself brewed up mugs of steaming hot tea and coffee, we curled our fingers around them as we felt the early morning chill on our cheeks. I could smell the metallic tang of wintery air. After breakfast and a quick dog walk, we headed into Carnforth and spent a very happy hour or so in the bookshop. Himself could have spent a fortune but I was more intrigued by the architecture of the building with stairs that seemed to vanish or only go down a step or two then after one stride immediately come back up. There was room after room of books on shelves up to the ceilings with some of the rooms with the perfect chair for curling up and reading. Floors were on many levels and rooms looked like they had been added on as an afterthought!

After a while we felt the pull to be back out and on with our walk and Moss agreed, so we drove to our chosen parking spot and as I made sandwiches and Himself sorted out maps and boots - a robin appeared and insisted that he'd NOT eaten A THING all week. We humoured him and I crumbled some cheese, raisins and bread on a tree stump.

Robin fed, boots on, lunch packed and map at the ready we set off. As we left the car park we noticed the same robin had cornered another unsuspecting walker who had also fallen for the 'I've not EATEN for a WEEK' and was feeding his sandwich to it!

Our walk started in Eaves Wood - one of my favourite places but today's route only skirted through a small edge of it and soon we were heading towards Gaits Barrow.

We have stopped at the little summerhouse before - about three years ago and it was barely visible from the track and having spotted it, we noticed it's rather dilapidated state. This time we could see there had been a lot of love and restoration lavished on it. The doors, soffits, roof, guttering and pointing had all been replaced with new and it was sporting several bat boxes and swallow and swift nesting points.

Our route took us through ancient tracks, alongside woodland, in and out of farmland, by streams and in the company of curious heifers who cautiously escorted us from one end of their huge field to the other.

Suddenly we arrived at the nature reserve - far too early - I must be very much fitter than the last time we walked this way! So we made the most of the late afternoon light and took photographs of the amazing reflections. Looking at the water was like looking into another realm!

We then walked back to the van in the last of the afternoon sun, dropped off our bags and fed Moss, tucked her up in her bed and after a quick cuppa, set back to the nature reserve to watch the evening's entertainment - the whole reason why we were there!

We stood on the nature reserve's causeway track which goes through the moss and reed beds, people were spread out all along, waiting and watching as were we. 

Then the starlings started to appear - first small groups of 50 to 100 birds. As they flew overhead we could hear a whispering woosh of their wings, then a millisecond later the split splat splot as their droppings hit the floor - a hazard of watching them!! I tried videoing them but my efforts do not do their aerial display any justice. 

(I am afraid that blogger wont let me down load the videos - grrrr. So I have removed the link and added another image instead)

As a display it was not as monstrously magnificent as it had been last time we were there, however this year it was directly above us and although lots of smaller displays (hundreds rather than thousands) it was amazing to watch. We were so so much closer,  close enough to see that magical invisible chord the birds have as they twist and turn without so much as a peep of control. They twirled and swooped (and pooped!) over and over and around us then with a silent accord they dropped into the reeds. It was at this point there was a rallying cry and the birds twittered and chattered at an ear deafening chorus - it gave me goose bumps galore!

By this time it was almost too dark to see so we stumbled our way back to the van as did most of the other spectators. We were almost back when we were startled and in turned spooked a Roe deer and for a brief moment we stood staring at each other, then it silently vanished in the dark woods. Oh so spellbinding!

When we opened the van - our dear dilly dog was still fast asleep - full tum and warmly wrapped in her duvet - what a life! 

We drove off into the night back to the shore road; there we had a mug of tea as I cooked, filling the van with a warming scent of our meal. Our conversation was of our day brimming with precious moments of magic. And tomorrow was still to come🐾💗

#moreblogvember

Blogtober day 24 - taking the slow lane

Today gave us no illusions of a lingering Indian summer as it seems that autumn is definitely here. We watched the rain fly across our view through the window while we sipped tea first thing this morning. The clouds seemed in a hurry too, rapidly sliding across the dreary grey sky.

It was a good thing that we went walking yesterday when, despite the greyness of the sky, there was warmth in the air and colour all around. The woodland we visited smelt damp and earth rich and the leaves were shades of bright orange through to red, browns and creams.

Odd fungi abounded - from the tiny little bright orange 'Yellow Stag's Horn' which when you compare it to the fronds of the sphagnum moss, you can see how small and delicate it is; to the large peach coloured bracket fungus which I suspect may be a Birch Polypore.

We followed a path blanketed by fallen leaves when we stumbled upon a strew of green and red crab apples, we must have stood on some as the air was filled with a crisp sharp apple scent making our mouths water at the thought of the very acidic tangy juice.

Although plenty of bird song, there were very few insects about - apart from this sticker of a bumblebee on the road sign.

On such a dull day - the more subtle and probably over looked colours seemed prevalent, the soft tan browns of the front door glowed in the dull light as did the red leaves on the wall climber.

The bracken in the gill still looked gloriously fiery in shades of yellows, lime, rust and terracotta yet it's brackeny cousins on the top of the hill were already a dull dead brown.

And just in case you ever wondered if there were ever any stars on earth - the answer is yes - 'Earthstars' or Geastrum - a type of puff ball - strange creatures indeed.

A tiny family of tiny Mycena, I am not sure which variety, seemed to be strolling through a mossy scene on a rotting piece of fallen wood.

So, while Moss was stick hunting, puddle splashing, water drinking, sniffing, running and generally taking life at high speed - we slowed down to see the smaller things, the less visible, the quiet and the decaying. Yes, Autumn is definitely here.

#blogtober2021

Blogtober day 14 - LARGE strawberry and small mushroom

Somehow I am not sure if this particular strawberry plant received the memo... you know the one - summer has ended, please go dormant.... So it seems there is now an urgent race between the ripening strawberry and the autumnal weather - who will cross the line first?!?

On the other end of the scale ... how small is this?? it was not the first mushroom we spotted in the cut-and-come-again flower bed, it was only after I'd taken a photograph or two of the other fungi that my colleague saw this tiny dot of a fruiting body!

And just for comparison (apart from the looming finger) these are the originally spotted fruiting bodies and they are about 2cm tall.... amazing little things (but what I did not notice until I 'enbiggened' the image on the laptop - something even smaller hds been nibbling the edge of the lower mushroom).

What eeeny weeeeeeny teeni-tiny things have you spotted recently?

#blogtober2021

Breathing

 So, I dropped off the radar.

When not working, we've been going on micro-road trips almost every weekend. For us, at the moment, road trips don't mean we are doing overnighters, we still come home at the end of the day once we have squeezed every last drop out of our adventure.

We love to walk the quieter paths and the less trodden routes and we have learnt over years of walking that the casual dog walker tends to turn back soon after their dog has relieved themselves - the evidence is the give away 🙄 and the day-tripper-walkers (especially now) tend to keep to the 'honey-pot' places where there are easy to pootle along pathways, with outdoor cafes and obvious beauty spots to visit. Good for them and hopefully good for struggling tourism post the pandemic drought.

We've not travelled far either, we don't have to drive miles and miles to find quiet trails in cool woodlands or to find panoramic views, there are so many places to visit locally that very quickly become 'off the beaten track' with a little effort.

Having Zeb (van) has elevated our walks to micro-adventures. The delight of pulling up into a parking space and while we are getting ready for our day's walking, listening to the kettle whistling a merry tune. The pleasure of sipping freshly made piping hot tea while we fill the flasks and lace up our boots.  And the relief (and I do mean relief) of being able to nip to the loo before we go and knowing that when we return from our walk we can use the bathroom, wash our hands, pull off our hot boots and slip into a change of shoes. Bliss.

And we've agreed food tastes better when cooked and eaten outside.

Yesterday we walked over a fairly high and isolated moorland ridge littered with limestone pavements, it made for tricky walking as we picked our way through the slabs and, today, despite feeling like I have been through the wringer - it was a good adventure.

Even the most heart-breakingly beautiful view is made better by tea and a dilly dog. Talking of tea and dilly dog in the same sentence, when we stop for our brew and a biscuit or two, so does she. We get out flasks for us and water for her. 

On Sunday we munched our way through Anzac biscuits and she tucked into gravy bones - we need the energy boost and it only goes to reason that she does too 😊

There is something restorative in the simple pleasures of hugging a mug, sitting next to your man while watching the sun go down.  

These photos are just a small selection from our walks and micro-adventures over the last couple of weeks since lockdown has been easing.  

So, a tentative toe has been dipped back into blogging, it is not that I have nothing to say - I always have some story or other.

It is not as if I've not done anything, not been anywhere...it is just when I start to write a post - nothing happens ... ... ... except me staring at the draft page then shutting down the laptop or deleting what I have written.

I will return to blogging, blog hopping and commenting, but at the moment - life is busy, I am still grieving for a small and furry and my personal time is precious - stay safe, enjoy life, have adventures big and small and don't wait for 'things to get better' you have to grab the moment and make it yours, make it different, make it better - and do it RIGHT NOW.