Surrender

We followed the smaller roads, the ones that went over old ridges and through ancient villages. Roads no wider than the van, ones as wild at the surrounding hills. We saw no one. Just sheep, clinging to the hillsides, and farms - stoic stone buildings bent by time and hunkered down out of the prevailing winds.

Our destination - Surrender Bridge, Swaledale. A lonely crossroads with a long history high up on Reeth High Moor. We arrived in the gloom and hurriedly took Moss out for a last evening walk before bed. We could hear the rushing water over the large red and grey boulders and the occasional car heading home from their day.   Lights and heater on in Zeb made a cozy and snug hideaway for the night. After we'd eaten, we curled up under the duvet and read and perused maps planning the next days walking.

Day break was marked by the chucking call of the red grouse as they confirmed their territories all around us. The air was chilly however, clutching mugs of steaming tea and wrapped in the duvet - we watched the birds antics and took in our view.

I walked Moss while Himself made our breakfast, we strode out in the early morning air, crisp and fresh. At the top of the little hill we'd gone, I turned, the sun warming my face. I was itching to walk - so Moss sorted, we strode back down to the van.  Breakfast and Himself were waiting as were my boots and haversack.

Our path took us up above where we'd parked, along an initially boggy and indistinct path which soon settled into a rocky and winding trail that wound its way around incredibly interesting industrial archaeology.

I knelt down and tried to stare down the tunnel - the collapsed roof revealed a beautifully stone lined flue from the smelting mill below. The flue continued up over 400 metres up the hill - built to carry the noxious and toxic fumes away from the once busy mill.

The valley was full of derelict farm buildings, kilns, slag heaps, tunnels and holes. Some farms appeared to have been purchased purely as residential homes and the land seemed abandoned. One or two farms looked to be working however the land itself seemed a hard creature - thin and either marshy or crumbling. Difficult to work - yet there were places of raw beauty and micro worlds of delight.

The narrow track widened and turned into the most shimmery mirror pool reflecting the sky and reeds fringing the edge.

Our route took us off this harsh beautiful space and we dropped down into a kinder valley filled with ancient woodlands with small and secret magic.

The path took on added frisson as it left the safety of the trees and clung to the side of a precipitates edge high above a rough and tumbling river. We loved it. We all did. 

The path finally took us down to the river which Moss took as a sign she was meant to swim in the tea coloured water. We reluctantly continued on and tore ourselves away, Moss even more reluctant that us had to be called several times before she slowly dragged herself out of the water.

The steps from the river back up the valley side were new and extremely steep! Moss took them in her stride, I had to work a little harder to get myself up them.

It seems that the easier path is no longer allowed - a shame, it was kinder on the knee and on the lungs.

Heather - burnt  to create grouse feeding grounds - surrounded the narrow stony trail we now walked on.  Below us was the remains of the Surrender Smelt mill - a name that has many suggestions as to why it is called Surrender - ranging from being the name of the original led mining company, to the 'surrendering' of toil money by the miners as they carried their wares across the bridge, or the name of the wild  Surrender Moss, a place higher up the moors.

With a bit of research I think that the company name is the most reliable as the first reference to 'Surrender' in connection with the area was noted in 1806 when there was a request to 'let the hearths' to the Surrender Company. 

We explored the old smelting mill, quietly wondering at it's history and the people that were involved. I find the views from the empty windows the most evocative. 

Once back at the van, the kettle on, Moss rubbed down and wrapped up - the wind was still cutting, we sat and watched a couple of sheep grazing, listened to the grouse cackling and scrapping over their territories. 

Sipping tea and eating fruit cake after a walk never tasted so good.

A 'To-do' list for October

Listening to the rain against the window and the wind howling around the house has made me retreat to something 'safe and familiar' so I am hunkering down in the attic, with mug of coffee, cat, dog and music. I feel at a bit of a loss at what to do - oh there is plenty that I could do, but I wanted .... I wanted something - something different. I did a bit of blog hopping as I sipped my brew and came across a spot of inspiration. To give myself a gentle to do list - so I thought I would share it with you and hope that you find inspiration too.

Sewing

Continue experimenting with thread - I am finding sewing a strange release from this mojo-lockdown I am experiencing. I am not quite sure what was the final straw but I suspect a combination of burnout post art festival, pandemic lockdown and loss of inspiration have all conspired to stifle my ability to draw or paint. It is a strange grief I feel when I think about the lack of art in my life at the moment. I keep thinking that (and several folk have said to me) I will eventually return to pen and paper.... that remains to be seen. Slow-sew seems to be filling that void and it has given me the ability to make and gift things to those folk I love. I am not particularly good at it but hopefully with practice I will improve.

Gardening

Despite my knee and my back arguing for a less physical activity, I love gardening and yoga soon quietens down the dissenters.  Besides I need that physical contact with the soil, to feel the air around me and hear bird song. It frees me, gives me space to think - or not to if I choose,  and it gives me a place to create and at the end of the working day - I can return home, tired, invariably dirty but mostly happy. Now that can't be bad.

I have been working on turning my own garden into a sanctuary for wildlife, I already have a 'no spray/no poisons' policy and have done since moving here in 2001. However, I still have a 'garden', now it is gradually becoming a wildfriendly space with a bit of coaxing and selective weeding and plant positioning.

LINK

Cooking

Now that most of our meals are just the two of us, it is easier to experiment with new recipes - a few years ago I took part in the New52 - trying 52 new recipes over the year and it turned out to be rather successful. Ok - so there isn't that many weeks left of 2020 but I think I will try something different each week until the end of the year.  Something you could try too :D

Write

At the beginning of the year I started researching my topic and although there is still a lot to learn about and to try out, I am now laying down the foundations of a story set during 1910. Admittedly during most of the lockdown I never typed a word until yesterday, when I cracked open the file and re-read what I had written to refresh my memory and reintroduce myself to the characters. Three hours later I was typing almost faster than I could think - I am sure my fingers know the plot before my head does! 

Döstädning

Translated means .... Swedish Death Clearing - despite the rather morbid title, there is a really positive ethos behind it - I have already started with my clearing, and will continue to do so - the gist is.... you spend the first half of your life collecting things and now it is time to get rid of them - leaving your home and your life simpler and easier. For a more glossy version - LINK

Reading

Self explanatory really except I mean more book reading less screen reading. Over the summer I have devoured more books than I have for a while and I have been reminded how much I relish a good page turner.  I favour factual rather than fiction and most of my books either have an outdoor theme or one of otherworldly.

Walking

This. 

Lots and lots of this. 

(Moss told me I had to type this bit!) But she is correct, walking is the best way to keep my head straight and deal with her fizzy feet!!

As far as lists go, it may seem mundane and normal but with the second wave of the pandemic and our area having been on tighter restrictions that other parts of the country and now having to lock down tighter - we all need something to focus on.

So, as I type this, sitting cross-legged on the settee, Moss is asleep next to me..... I think about everyone who is/has/will be somehow affected by the pandemic as it rears it's head once more. I don't have an answer and those that are in power certainly don't have a clue either, meanwhile in all of the confusion and misinformation (deliberate or otherwise) the environment continues to suffer, underhand dealings and shifty politicians continue to thrive and lets face it .... it appears that money makes the world go round (even if it is at the detriment of that same world......)

This is why I need my list.

The winds of change

A sharp breeze, one that slaps cheeks and grabs coats, accompanied us on our walk on Saturday. We'd gone up to Lancaster with a van load of things for Youngest as he returns to uni. We hold our breath while we hope the panic-lockdown of students does not rear its ugly head here. Youngest and gf are both student reps this year, assigned a house of students to watch over with all contact via zoom and cellphones. We left them with dire warnings of making sure they have sufficient supplies to last should things change.

Cold fingers and necks wrapped up in woolly cosiness, hats pulled on for good measure and coats pulled tight, we stepped out of the van, up a small and busy lane then turned off the road into a field full of young beef-stock. They lifted their heads from grazing and watched but soon became disinterested. Only one seemed more alert and watched us closely as we passed by. I, for years, felt stock-sure enough to be able to deal with fields of cows but after a couple of heart stoppingly uncomfortable near-moments - I have realised my own mortality and have become wary. 

We were not the only ones out in the buffeting cold autumnal breeze. A small gathering of swallows were chattering and preening overhead. They were certainly congregating and making plans to find warmer climes. I shall miss them.

The paths were quiet, very few walkers about. 

The odd fisherman - and yes I really do mean 'odd', with a pike in the net and hysterical laughter. We politely admired his catch and moved on. 

The very dapper couple, he with his goatie and waxed mustachio, bowtie and cream cords and she in a floral dress, black leggings and striking shock of brick red and steel grey hair. They were on bikes and wore chest wide beaming grins as we passed them - they just glowed happiness.

A couple of family groups with dogs - all observing the CV19 distance, all smiling and cheery.    A lovely change from some of the more surly walkers we seem to have met more recently.

As ever, Moss delighted in every sniff, every stick and every spot she could get down to the water. We stopped for a break on a longboat mooring and watched squirrels bouncing up through grass, birds and the last of the season's butterflies as we drank tea and ate fruit cake.

Considering how near to a city we were, it was remarkably quiet, the only noise was the light aircraft circling the sky disgorging parachutists at regular intervals.

It was late afternoon by the time we returned to the van. Moss was towelled dry, fed and wrapped up to keep warm - the breeze had taken on a sharper note - and bundled up into her bed. Kettle on and brittle hands wrapped around hot mugs felt good.

The sun, mostly hidden behind cloud during the day began to drop below the now dissipating thick layer of grey. The sky lit up.  From within the van, we sheltered from the breeze and watched the sun and the sky become alive as they changed colours, deepened and intensified.

I cooked and we ate in virtual silence except for the occasional intake of breath at the beauty or a whispered comment to each other as we took photos or just witnessed the sunset.

As the sun vanished below the horizon, the temperature dropped rapidly. We put away our plates, tidied the back of the van and climbed into the cab. Moss had been fast asleep and watched us through bleary dog eyes as we buckled up and set off. We took the long way round - I think I smiled for most of it.

Thank you everyone for joining or commenting on or even just reading our posts of September's Scavenger Photo Hunt. October's words will pop up soon so definitely keep an eye out for them.

Until then - I hope the sunsets where you are, are as heart breathtakingly beautiful - blessings be xxx

September's link up party

 Welcome to September's Scavenger Photo hunt!

Hello hello hello!

September and autumn seemed to have landed together, so, let's mark their arrival by sharing our photos and stories with this month's Scavenger Photo Hunt!

Just follow the link to add your post for  September and if you fancy joining it next month - it is really easy, just follow the list of words supplied at the beginning of each month adding a photo and a few accompanying words. Enjoy!

The link up party will stay live until midnight Sunday when it will then close.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

September's words and pictures

 Seasonal

A huge bunch of large haws - perfect for hurling at the husband when he least expects it ..... mhwahahaha.

Favourite seat/place to sit

This, when I typed out the prompt at the beginning of the month, was not what I had in mind .... however, briefly on Thursday afternoon there was a small flash of sunshine. Bathing my sidekick in the most wonderfully warm light. 

 

In the attic, where I am at the moment, there is a 2CV back seat which is used as a 'settee' when I get visitors while I am sewing. However, the most frequent user of this rather comfortable seat ..... is Moss.... so her favourite comfort-blankie (thank you Daisy) is draped for added snuggle.

Comforting/cosy

A few years ago a dear friend gifted to me her salt lamp. It has cheerfully given out it's happy and holistic vibes ever since. In the time it has been mine, both boy's girlfriends have fallen under the spell of the pink glow and now are owners of their own. They are a comforting warming light - perfect for dark evenings and dank days.

Delight/ed/ful

I know I have shared this story with you before - I was so captivated by this brief moment of magic that it remains with me and makes me smile.

Micro/mini/teeny tiny

Some time over the summer we spent a wild weekend away in the van, we stopped at the coast for Moss and I, me to fill my eyes and my soul with the coastal light and Moss to swim and play. As we sat on the stones to dip out of the breeze, Himself noticed the tiniest of feathers on a piece of drift wood.

My own choice

Umm. An image is better than a thousand words..............

Hope you've enjoyed my offering for September, now I am off to check out the other photo-hunters posts - have a good weekend xxxxx