A Ride Around Thirlmere, A Walk in Whinlatter Forest.

Last week it was my husband's birthday. In the morning I thought of asking him if he would like us to go to Whinlatter Forest for a short walk and lunch. There is a great little Siskin café there that serves up homemade food — simple but delicious. Tables outside too where you can watch the birds flying through the trees and feeding from nut and seed feeders that are drawn up to eye level. (The café is built up an incline so as to get lovely views of the forest.)

I decided not to ask as it is a good way for him to drive. Half an hour later, he asked me! This often happens. Sometimes it is quite funny. We both come up with the same reply, or automatically look at each other with the same expression when asked a question, or told a story.

“OOO… Fancy that!” Of course, you may think, “So what!”

We just find it funny.

The drive to Whinlatter takes us along country lanes and roads by the side of lakes and through valleys. Thirlmere Reservoir has been in the news lately because an earlier dry spell lasting far longer than usual had caused a considerable drop in the water level. It caused a hose pipe ban in the areas it feeds, as far down as Manchester. The water is now rising although it still has a little way to go. You will see this from the photographs. They are all of Thirlmere. There are plenty of photographs of Whinlatter in an earlier post.

Since we intended walking, we both decided on a bowl of soup with roll and butter. A piece of cake to share afterwards. (Well, it was hubby's birthday!) My eyes popped when the soup arrived — in two pound size pudding basins! The large seedy roll was also homemade — delicious with tow large pats of butter. (We don't usually eat butter because of the cholesterol) The cake too, was lovely. It was with a heavy tummy that we took a walk afterwards — not far, just about 50 minutes. Slow going as I soon get puffed, as well as my knee being sore at present.

The weather kept fine for us, even if clouds threatened rain.

We drove home via the other side of Thirlmere and I took some photographs.

Once home, hubby decided to cut the grass as rain was forecast for the weekend.

Just as well, rain has poured down!

A lovely day to remember.

Mountains, Forests, Lakes and Dales — The English Lake District

We have just been on a holiday to the upper part of the English Lake District, taking in the Coastal harbours. Not far away maybe, but a break among the mountains, climbing up hills, walking by lakes and rivers, visiting harbours with their new marinas. Taking in sweet scents of pine and wild flowers, lifted to Paradise by magnificent views. The strenuous exercise actually relieved the discomfort I had been suffering with arthritic knees!
We marvelled at the new life all around us — foals, lambs, pretty little pigs, young birds, red squirrels, and, of course, the freshness of new green growth amongst woodland and meadow.
And when we were resting in our caravan, my husband read to me. Two interesting novels, although we were glad to get to the end of one of them as it seemed to go on forever with unnecessary detail. I guess some writers hate to miss out anything gleaned through research, but why stretch out a story with what often seems like padding?

Getting home we were welcomed by the colourful blooming of our garden shrubs and trees. We can't help but wonder how we came to live in such a lovely part of England!

I also found I had received excellent reviews for my Seduction By Design but they deserve a post of their own!

Cromford Canal — a walk in Derbyshire

A walk along Cromford Canal.

Winter has gone and spring has arrived but it is obvious that everything is behind within the natural world. Even so on our short break in Derbyshire (celebrating out 57th wedding anniversary) we found great delight in taking short walks, one of which was by the Cromford Canal.
Cromford is well known for its cotton manufacturing history (Sir Richard Arkwright) and indeed a mill museum is there to inform interested visitors. Mill buildings stand as strong-looking as ever, as indeed are the large Masson mills on the nearby River Derwent (along with the interesting museum there is also a retail outlet too). The original Masson mill water turbines still operate and generate electricity.
Close by is Sir Richard Arkwright’s mansion, Willersly Castle – now a Christian-based hotel open to all.
At the start of our walk we met a photographer waiting to snap a friendly vole. I admire these photographers who wait many hours to get their pictures. We did not see a great deal of water life, certainly not as much as we usually do but maybe they were further away. Even so, it was a pleasant walk. A train rushing on the lines below the canal, and the stink of a nearby sewage disposal works, did little to disturb our tranquil mood.

(The ducks in the photograph are out of focus but I love the 'Impressionist' feel about the picture)

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Late January walk round Ulverston, Cumbria — in photos

Date, January 31st 2010. Cold but not too bad for January. We walked up Chittery Lane (at the top end of Soutergate) and took the bridle path (where we took the first photo overlooking the Flan).
At the top end of the lane is a view of distant bay and the Hoad monument (presently shrouded in plastic while renovation work id being done.)
Walking on towards the monument you get lovely views of town and bay. On reaching higher ground the mountains of Cumbria come into view. Over the other side, views of woods, the canal, industry, and South Ulverston. We poised by a seat dedicated to a much-loved lady, evidenced by fresh flowers. A wonderful thing to commemorate someone's life this way. There are a number of seats along the footpaths and truly appreciated by those in need of a rest.
It is possible to follow a path down to the main road where you can get refreshment at Booths before choosing your way home (or back to the car park?).
Uphill but an easy walk.
Leaflets of walks and the town's attractions can be found at the Tourist Information Office. Don't forget to visit one of the jewels of Ulvetston — the Tinners Rabbit Bookshop on Market Street, housed in a rambling old building with beams and, in winter, an open fire with armchair plus a sofa upstairs. Oh yes, and you'll find some of my books there! (Signed and dedicated if asked for.)
The photos have come out of order - one day I'll get it right!

A Watery Break In Derbyshire!

We have just returned from an eight day break in Derbyshire. We had rain most of the time but clear spells when we managed some walking — the woods at Chatsworth (always a delight), the path in Dovedale (heavenly riches) , the nature reserve at Carsington Reservoir (a perfect haven), and the last section of the Tissington Trail (easy walking and a joy for cyclists), We visited my sister and took her to the lovely nature reserve at Attenborough (about a mile from where we lived many years ago — mentioned in my book of childhood memories, When Phones Were Immobile and Lived in red Boxes). And we visited my husband's sister for tea (at Matlock), and joined both his sisters plus husbands for a meal at the Grouse and Claret at Rowsley.
We came across a fantastic log in Dovedale, 'chissled' by nature, which reminded me of a poem I wrote recently. I decided to put it here with the photo of the log plus one of me with my sister. Although we are not a bit alike, one might say that both my sister and I have been similarly sculptured!

Nature’s Sculpture
By Gladys Hobson

Like twisted log tossed on the beach
each groove and knot
forming nature’s sculpture.
If mind is open it can reach
a story true
of life and death —
crafted in lines bold and free
in hollows and grooves
and swirls and knots:
a distorted body —
a soul tormented?

Or is the story nature tells
far from what my eyes do see?
For beauty lies within the heart
and sings a different melody,
Those crafted grooves
that make me shudder
were earned by life’s experience.
Each tells a story of its own
yet builds into a perfect whole.

Again I look into the mirror
unafraid of what I see;
for nature’s sculpture so defined
is beauty of a different kind.
I am who I am —
yes, this is me.