Skeggleswater is secluded, lying low . On a late September day my friend Jill and I lurched through tussocks of tall grasses and boggy hollows beside Skeggleswater Dyke , through the flame-like seed heads of bog asphodel and cross –leaved-heath. A heather knoll rose into view and a green haze of reeds reached out into the tarn. Summer vegetation overspread the water, pond weed and water lily pads soon to shrink back into the silts below.
Geese in the clouds, fish in the clouds. Reflections made magic. Everything was out of the ordinary, in a new light, a rare light that could not last. From the shore where moths flitted, I could stand on a rock and sky-dive down, down through the bright clouds, through pools of liquid gold pouring off the fell side, through a dark pool of heather reflected from the rocky knoll.