Tree flowers with chiff-chaff What are they staring at, she and her dog? She awaits my approach, eager to share her find. Well, her dog found it. An adder, right on the path, basking in the warm sun. No sign of it now, It’s vanished into the safety of a juniper bush. 'Black, with well-defined markings.' She’s excited by her find, and so am I.
Curlew can be heard from Kendal Race Course, most mornings. Redpoll and linnet too. The first early purple orchid appears, deep purple and hugging the ground.
Curlew can be heard from Kendal Race Course, most mornings. Redpoll and linnet too. The first early purple orchid appears, deep purple and hugging the ground.
My first swallow at Park End Farm where Tilly the Swarble-Texel cross is a winning black lamb who nibbles my boot laces. A cat and her ginger kitten in the yard. The first bluebells in Park End Wood.
Up on Scout Scar there’s an invigorating wind and bright sun.
'It’s worth having, isn’t it? 'a woman says with true British understatement. It's a glorious morning.
Up on Scout Scar there’s an invigorating wind and bright sun.
'It’s worth having, isn’t it? 'a woman says with true British understatement. It's a glorious morning.
I’ve a feeling I’ve wrecked Michaela’s run when she stops for a chat. For both of us, this is what we do. Not only when in lock-down from Covid 19, but always. We have chosen to be here, to live in this location. I’ve walked from home, she has run here. With lock-down we reflect upon how vital The Nature Cure is to our well-being. 'It’s inspirational, ' she says. If we took it for granted that we could always come here Covid 19 and the lock-down makes us consider all this means to us – to share out stories. Being in the moment is all we need, just being.
Spring advances apace and, coming here almost daily, we’re alert to seasonal rhythms. Out here is the essence of what we seek. It is innate in humankind, our need of all this – as we rediscover. We forge our community anew, making it stronger as we meet others from the neighbourhood. Those we knew and those unknown to us before.
Spring advances apace and, coming here almost daily, we’re alert to seasonal rhythms. Out here is the essence of what we seek. It is innate in humankind, our need of all this – as we rediscover. We forge our community anew, making it stronger as we meet others from the neighbourhood. Those we knew and those unknown to us before.
On Thursday night at 8.00pm there is the weekly applause for the NHS, for care workers, for those in essential services. It grows louder by the week: clapping, cheering, pans banged to set dogs barking.
Meanwhile, Captain Tom Moore, who will celebrate his 100th birthday at the end of April, has raised £18 million for NHS charities by walking his garden. His positive spirit has inspired the nation. Eighteen million pounds and if donations keep on coming he;ll keep on walking.
A wonderful day on Scout Scar- and yes, worth having. We are grateful to have this opportunity during lock-down, we know our good fortune. But yet ---
My friend Frances recommended a BBC 4 programme: The Great Mountain Sheep Gather. And I long for mountain solitude. I remember the days I've spent watching shepherds gather their flocks from common grazing on the high fells. I recall them telling me they need dogs that think for themselves, out of sight out of earshot from the shepherd, when a voice, a whistle, is lost on the wind. A quad bike is useless in such rugged terrain. Oh to set out at starlight, to walk up to the highest point of Scafell Pike, to gather the flock and walk the sheep home. No sound but the calls of the shepherd, the barking of curs, the bleating of Herdwick lambs and their mothers. I think I can hear ring ouzel, I've found them there. To walk the flock home, what a walk! The shepherd has a crook to balance over a steep and rock-strewn mountain side, to reach for a sheep. The joy of this programme is its authenticity. Only the natural soundscape and occasionally the shepherds voice telling how his family has family has farmed here for 120 years. So shepherds, curs and Herdwicks all know this land intimately. No distracting overlay of music. No need of the poetry, it doesn't ring true.
Slow TV, like the Great Reindeer Migration with the Sami- now shown at Christmas. The challenges for photography are comparable- great panning shots over Eskdale, zooming in slowly over crags and scree to close-ups of Herdwicks, the new crop of lambs black, maturing to all shades of chestnut and chocolate to the old grey and white ewes. The flock jostles and tumbles over rough and rugged ground, a camera somehow mounted on a matriarch of the flock. I'd love to know how the filming was done.
The Great Mountain Sheep Gather is perfect for lock-down. If anything inspires a respect for hill farmers and for mountain landscapes this will do it.
Meanwhile, Captain Tom Moore, who will celebrate his 100th birthday at the end of April, has raised £18 million for NHS charities by walking his garden. His positive spirit has inspired the nation. Eighteen million pounds and if donations keep on coming he;ll keep on walking.
A wonderful day on Scout Scar- and yes, worth having. We are grateful to have this opportunity during lock-down, we know our good fortune. But yet ---
My friend Frances recommended a BBC 4 programme: The Great Mountain Sheep Gather. And I long for mountain solitude. I remember the days I've spent watching shepherds gather their flocks from common grazing on the high fells. I recall them telling me they need dogs that think for themselves, out of sight out of earshot from the shepherd, when a voice, a whistle, is lost on the wind. A quad bike is useless in such rugged terrain. Oh to set out at starlight, to walk up to the highest point of Scafell Pike, to gather the flock and walk the sheep home. No sound but the calls of the shepherd, the barking of curs, the bleating of Herdwick lambs and their mothers. I think I can hear ring ouzel, I've found them there. To walk the flock home, what a walk! The shepherd has a crook to balance over a steep and rock-strewn mountain side, to reach for a sheep. The joy of this programme is its authenticity. Only the natural soundscape and occasionally the shepherds voice telling how his family has family has farmed here for 120 years. So shepherds, curs and Herdwicks all know this land intimately. No distracting overlay of music. No need of the poetry, it doesn't ring true.
Slow TV, like the Great Reindeer Migration with the Sami- now shown at Christmas. The challenges for photography are comparable- great panning shots over Eskdale, zooming in slowly over crags and scree to close-ups of Herdwicks, the new crop of lambs black, maturing to all shades of chestnut and chocolate to the old grey and white ewes. The flock jostles and tumbles over rough and rugged ground, a camera somehow mounted on a matriarch of the flock. I'd love to know how the filming was done.
The Great Mountain Sheep Gather is perfect for lock-down. If anything inspires a respect for hill farmers and for mountain landscapes this will do it.
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