Saturday's are for adventures

 Youngest has finished his second year at uni so we arranged to meet up him on Sunday and help bring back all his goods and chattels he'd accumulated over the year. We went up on the Saturday, taking the long way round, driving through the Trough of Bowland, stopping for lunch and a walk.

We walked up Langden valley which is full of water treatment works capturing water coming off the moors. Tucked just in visible view is a stone mermaid sitting watching the water gush through the channels. I have photographed her in the past but the hedges have grown so much that we could just about see her but not well enough to take a picture.

Along the road we came across a small herd of what I suspect are Dalesbred ponies - with the most gloriously feathery legs. One of them came up and inspected us over the mossy wall. He had the softest velvety nose which he allowed me to stroke.

The river cheerfully babbled over the large pebbles however either side of the bank was evidence of previous torrential flooding where the edges had been ripped up and huge boulders tossed aside. The water must come down with some incredible force as the scarring was very much wider than today's benign little stream tumbling off the moors.

We'd set off in wellies and waterproofs, clutching umbrellas and hoping that we'd stay dry. It soon became hot and muggy and all forms of rainproof clothing were cast aside and stuffed into my haversack. The walk was lovely - wild and desolate moorland scenery with the occasional sheep grazing in the undergrowth.

We returned to the van and seeing we were surrounded by other walkers and day trippers, a noisy catering truck and a long queue, we moved the van a little further up the moorland road and stopped in a completely empty parking site. It was lovely and quiet with a trickling stream just in front of us and we sat with a brew and listened to the swallows chittering and the swifts screaming. Moss curled up on her cushion in the cab and dozed with half shut eyes.

Why does a mug of tea made in the van and drunk in the countryside tastes so much nicer?

Having rested a while, we jumped back into the van and headed off to our stop for the night. We were not meeting Youngest until Sunday afternoon and our weekend adventure had only just started.

We parked up and I started cooking - we were starving by now and ready to eat. Shortly afterwards, we were sitting blowing on forkfuls of steaming hot pasta watching the ever changing sky.

The stormy weather was all around us and the sky had taken on a strange shade of blue. The sea glistened a startling silvery white and views flattened through the hazy humid air.

With one eye on the huge clouds building over the seas, we set off for a short walk along the estuarine edge, round back along the canal with a quick stop at the marina basin for Moss - she was warm and muddy and she was keen for a cool dip. The humid air was filled with the heady scent of the honeysuckle in all the hedges along the canal - it was a rich and delicious fragrance.

Himself checked the rain radar on his cellphone and suggested that we set off back to the van at a quick pace - we did not want to be caught out.

We'd not been back long when a barn owl silently flew past on an evening hunt and we held our breath in excitement as it landed not far from us - just long enough for me to take a picture through the van window.

Again with brew in hand, we sat and watched the storms roll across the sea and clash as they reached the shore. We could hear distant rolling thunder and the air felt electric. It then cooled and a breeze whipped up tossing the clouds towards us - we watched as long as we could then as we were about to retreat into the van, a searing white fork of lightning zapped downward and hit the power station across the water. The resulting thunder clap was the loudest one I have ever heard and all the water fowl down on the marshes and on the sea all rose up screaming and flew off rapidly to safety.  

We closed ourselves away just as the rain hit the van and we listened in delight at the clattering raindrops as they hit the roof - the thunder rolled on and round us - it was brilliant. 

And tomorrow - Sunday - was another adventure just waiting to happen 😊

leading you up the garden path

June has been a gentle summer - with both warm and rainy days - today is the perfect example of what I imagined years ago. An English summer's day - warming up after a night of rain, with sunlight highlighting wet leaves and glistening flowers.

Alpine strawberries sweetly scenting the stone wall - as you walk by you are hit by their intense fruity fragrance, this mixes with the spicy aroma of the geraniums as their leaves warm up in the sunshine.

It seems that I am not the only one attracted to the aromatic bouquet lingering around the angelica. I can see you Mr Snail!

My little succulent gardens are growing, filling their pots and growing offshoots at a rapid rate - they must be happy.

There is something incredibly fascinating about the hydroscopic nature of Alchemilla mollis leaves - I love that the raindrops look like beads of glass. It's quiet unpretentious apple green leaves and lime green flowers are a delight as they froth along the top of the wall.

In the cool of the shade as I went down the path, the plants and flowers were less scented - they also need the sun to excite their perfume. However the cat mint was still able to exude enough aroma to attract the cat.... it is now known as the 'flat' mint ....

Our mini meadow is full of yellow rattle,  which excites me - you can already see the grass surrounding it looks less vigorous, the cat finds this wild part of the garden perfect to lie in, she vanishes and sleeps. 

A small wild piece of Eden, full of birds, insects, a fat and rather cantankerous and indolent white cat and us - bliss.

I am also HERE

Weekend wanderings

 You know when you've made plans (the more of a 'guide-line' style of planning rather than a hard and fast one) and then have to alter them, sometimes they turn out to be far far better.

Well, that is sort of what happened this last weekend. Our original plan - well loosely based guide line of an idea - was to pootle out on Friday evening when I'd returned from work. Spend the night out in the van and wake up Saturday and walk until the afternoon and then pootle home.

Then Youngest rang and asked if we could meet up on the Saturday evening- so we altered our plans a little and went out on the Saturday morning and walked one of our favourite routes - the Coronation Meadows near Slaidburn. We go annually if possible to see the 'unimproved' meadows with their wonderfully flowering fields. Each year is different - as it is very weather dependant, so a wet and dull year fills the fields with lush green growth and blousy flowers and dry hot year makes for shorter stockier stems and intense but short lived flowers. 

It felt as if we were the only ones out as we made our way through the meadows - it was glorious. All to soon we'd reached the far end and entered less floriferous fields however they are just as wonderful and are gently being allowed to become naturalised and insect rich habitats.

 Our walk finished far too soon, so we returned to the van, refuelled ourselves and set off along the riverine path towards Newton by Bowland. Oh Moss was in doggy-paradise. The water was just what a hot and dusty dog needed.

Then having returned to the van for a second time, we jumped in and trundled through the country side to meet up with Youngest.  We found a lovely quiet road with a large pull off space so we parked up. While we were just about to get out of the van a woman with a dog and small child on a pony came up and asked to borrow a cell phone - her dog was struggling in the heat.

Himself handed his cell over and I hopped out to offer some water for the dog. It was a large broad faced bulldog with an incredibly short nose and he was struggling to breathe. He lay on the floor as I poured water into a bowl for him and he soon drained it - however due to his squat face most of the water shot out of his mouth sideways so he lay in the puddle with his legs out backwards. The woman was unable to get hold of her husband however, during that time, the dog had cooled down and had a enough water to be able to stagger home. 

We'd wondered if we should offer her a lift however we had to factor in that she had a small child on a pony to get home too - she did say that it was not too far and that she would continue back very slowly. It took nearly 10 - 15 minutes for this dog to recover enough to continue walking - the owner was very worried and then very grateful once her dog had come to a bit. Hope she/they all got home ok.

Youngest landed and we spent a lovely evening chatting and walking along old sea defences - we were 'accompanied' by a silently hunting barn owl, curlews, oystercatchers, swallows and swifts.  Youngest stayed until it was almost totally dark then left to collect his girlfriend from a party.

We then set off to our final destination - a favourite stop for a night.

There is something wonderful waking up, clutching a mug of tea and watching the tide go out. Our plan was to walk a slightly extended 'dog loop' for a certain dog then pack up and head home in time to make scones and have afternoon tea in the garden with my folks.

So, yes, our loosely planned weekend took a slightly deviated path and was delightful. Simple pleasures and gentle days followed by mugs of tea with scones, jam and cream in the garden - a good weekend indeed.

I know we have walked through the Coronation Meadows several times and I know I have blogged about them - however I can only find my first post about the walk - so if you have a couple of minutes spare follow this link ...2016 it is also one of Moss's early walks with us and we were still getting to know each other🐾💗

edited to add: I have just found another Coronation Meadow story  2017