The High Borrowdale hay meadows are beautiful as the sun burnishes drifts of flowers.
On the outward walk I find ragged robin in a water track, look for it on the return but I'm distracted. There is so much to relish you have to be attentive and alert or you'd walk on by, unawares. The stonechat has a brood and he's proclaiming his territory. A chirruping almost at my feet and birds fly low over the beck, sand martin. They're nesting in the bank, beneath an overhang of turf and they have young. Brownish with a flash of white, they sweep over the beck and into their nest tunnels to feed their broods. So close, but hidden and protected by the sheer and eroding bank.