Francis

Force Crag

Derelict mine at Force Crag

Francis's Visit

22nd - 24th November

Have spent a lovely couple of days with a friend I met on a Writing course run by Lancaster University a few years ago. Didn't go on particularly 'adventorous' walks as both Marcus and I have developed some sort of throat infection over the past couple of weeks so don't feel up to anything too strenuous.

A little walk around part of the lake on Wednesday and a trot to Force Crag mine at Braithwaite on Tuesday. This is a particular favourite spot of mine: quiet, bleak and majestic. We were surprised to meet eight other walkers beside ourselves (difficult to imagine on a damp day, midweek in November).

Crummock footpath - near pumphouse

Crummock with gull

Moi, Looking across the Rannerdale Knotts.

Crummock

We seem to have spent a great deal of time at Crummock over the last few weeks. We visited the southern end of it a fortnight ago, the northern tip last Sunday and yesterday, Wednesday, I walked around the whole of it. My favourite part is still the lakeshore from Lanthwaite Wood and the fish ladders to Rannerdale. The western side was extremely boggy with no clear path in places. It was not much fun picking my way through the mud to be honest although the small strip of Birch and Holly trees alongside Scale Beckwere pretty magical as was Low Ling Crag for me. I have seen it sticking out across the water for so many years and have now finally stood on it.

The footbridge by Derwentfolds

Derwentfolds

Friday, 5th November

Derwentfolds is a special place that I found whilst on a walk with my friend, Francis. It has become a special place where I sometimes go to sit, read and contemplate stuff. Derwentfolds is actually the name of a nearby farmstead but this little footbridge over the beck is what makes the place special for me. It was here that I saw the hare incidentally.

I've Lost an Hour!

Friday, 5th November

So hey - where did it go - that hour? Finished writing at about three and now no time for a walk. My walk around the Backo' Skiddaw was hastily curtailed owing to growing darkness. Fortunately I had a torch but on the return it began to rain - heavily. So; pitch-black and soaking wet - way to go. Torchlight made an eerie glow along the path, through the woods and deep down into the river. As I neared home and crested the final rise, I thought - hey-ho this is what I remember about walking in the Lakes. I am glad to be back - I think.

A new me!

Hair day - the big cut

Wednesday, 3rd November

Today is the first time in twenty-five years that I have had my hair cut. It feels drastic. No longer have I long dark locks dangling a few inches above my waist but a jaunty bob that bounces on my shoulders. People must think me extemely vain; every time I pass a window or mirror, I stop to stare at my new reflection.

Buttermere

Steps in Low How wood - Crummock

Buttermere

Monday, 1st November

The staying-up till 3 in the morning on Saturday night has finally caught up with us so we decided to go for a gentle amble around Buttermere. Took a short-cut through Long How Wood to Crummock lakeside and then returned to walk a little way around Buttermere.

Samhain

Sunday, 31st October

The small digital camera we have, could not on its own, capture the wind-swept field in which the stones of Casterigg lie. As we stepped out of the car and walked under the nearly-full moon the wind was all we could hear. It sent clouds which were inky-black, billowing across the sky but when they passed, the light from the moon was clear enough to see by. We walked to the centre of the circle, the only people there; just us and the stones thrumming around us. You could feel the earth's heartbeat pumpimg through the soil. My teeth chattered, I shivered and held my breath but all that would come from my mouth was: Hail Hecate, Queen of Night, protect us through the coming darkness. On this, the most significant night of the year, we did not forget.

The Pumpkin Owl

The Pumpkin Owl

Sunday, 31st October

This may come as a surprise but I have never made a Jacko lantern before. When I was a child, at home, we always used a swede which was hard work. So mine has no mouth because I started it too far down. This is ok - I have decided it is an owl.

Jane, Nell & me at Friars Crag Derwentwater.

A Yew!

In Search of Yew

Saturday, 30th October

We have two more visitors - Nell and Jane, from Stoke and Nottingham. We have been friends for years but have not seen them since we have moved so it was great to have them to stay and show them around.

One of the things we wanted particularly to share was our Samhain celebration, which we decided to do a night early because of their visit. After a long discussion about trees and their symbolic significance, Nell decided it would be good to see if we could find a piece of Yew so, just before sunset, all three of us women wandered off into the woods to find a Yew tree. I think it was the significance of the three of us; three women, wandering off and coming home in the dark empty handed, for we found no Yew, that made the whole experience more humorous. We were about to perform a ritual for Hecate, who amongst other things, is often portrayed as the triple-headed Goddess - maid, mother, crone - that sort of thing. It turned out to be a lovely ritual, without the Yew and the next day we all wandered off around the lake, where I was very pleased to be able to point out a Yew to those of us who didn't know what one looked like.

How stupid I then felt on returning home to find, right next to our house, its wee spindles actually touching the wall of our home, a large Yew bush!

Oh how we laughed. But I bet not half as much as Hecate!

Back O' Skiddaw

Friday, 29th October

Bowscale Tarn

The valleys at the back of Skiddaw fell are totally different from the rest of the Lake District. They are remote and bleak. Large stretches of moorland interspersed with cold mountain streams (becks as they are called around here) with dark craggy fells rising at each side. Heather and juniper bushes cover the lower slopes and now that we are into autumn, there is the added dark russet of dried braken spread across higher reaches. Occasionally in gravelly clefts hewn up the fellside, you can see the remains of old mines. The buildings, roofless and without glass or wood, remain as a casual reminder of times past when these fells wrought a harsher existence than the farms and holiday cottages give rise to today.

Unfortunately Marcus has taken the camera to work so I am unable to snap up a picture of the Caldrew valley weaving its way to the centre of the Skiddaw massive.

Bowscale is a small hamlet between Mungrisedale and Mosedale and consists of one small farm and three or four cottages and barn conversions. There is a track that leads to Bowscale Tarn which is supposed to be haunted. Apparantly faces have been seen in the water. But not today I am pleased to report.

Mirehouse

Sunday 24th October

Still feeling frail after colds - tired mainly - so we have opted for an amble around Mirehouse; a small estate which hugs the Eastern shore of Bassenthwaite Lake.

It quickly became a walk full of memories as we used to come here often when our son was small. There is an adventure play-area in the woods, which he used to love and a bee garden which has always held a sense of peace for me. For the first time since we have returned I felt that we had truly, come home.

Successfully being able to identify the herbs in the herb-garden by their smell sent me into spontaneously singing, Scarborough Fair - quite loudly at times as we walked along the beck to the lakeside. It is a long time since I have felt like spontaneously bursting into song so I think it was good (albeit embarrassing for husband and passers-by).

After our small trot we felt tired and decided to visit the house, which we have never been inside before. This proved more intereting than expected. Marcus loved the library but found the Ladies Drawing room a little spooky. I loved the music room, especially as there was a woman actually playing the piano - reminded me of my own childhood when my Nanna used to play. There is something about Victorian nurseries that always give me the creeps - why is this?

Finally we walked back to the car-park and had coffee at the tea-house.

Grounds at Mirehouse

Maple - Mirehouse Grounds

Part of the Bee Garden at Mirehouse

Old carriage in Mirehouse grounds

We are told that dogs kept at Mirehouse could recognize the individual rings of these bells and would only bark when the, 'front door' rang to announce visitors.

Why are Victorian nurseries so spooky?

Knitting

I have recently taken to knitting. It provides me, I have found, with a creative outlet for which I do not have to think; unlike writing, where I do. Since returning to the Lakes in the summer, I have made two jumpers and a hat and scarf. I am currently making a long stripey scarf for my son.

Garaldine learns to knit.

Where we live.

Getting over colds

Saturday, 23rd October

Still getting over our colds so we do not feel like doing much. Went for short walk through the woods around our house. It felt good to get some fresh air after having been stuck in for a few days.