The lambs of Underloughrigg lay fast-asleep in postures of abandonment at 7.00am.
At Fox Ghyll, I emerged from a tunnel of rhodedendron and came upon a heaven of bright stars beside the beck: the massed flowers of bog asphodel fade so fast while the seed heads go on and on. There were orchids and cross-leaved heath, and the white seed-heads of common cotton- grass. What a show! With open ground and water there came a lovely botanical mix and a respite from high bracken which overwhelmed everything else.
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