The Langdale Pikes from Scout Scar escarpment Rain overnight, welcome rain. Enough to flood beneath the cattle grid on the road to Bradleyfield Farm. After the rain, a wild north wind and clarity.
I'm lost to the distant fells to the west. Floodlight and shadows cast by the play of sun and fast-flowing cloud over the Langdale Pikes. The reed beds of Foulshaw Moss are lit gold, for a moment. Helsington Pool gleams serpentine.down in the Lyth Valley. I am alone up here, with only the Welsh Black cattle for company.
I'm lost to the distant fells to the west. Floodlight and shadows cast by the play of sun and fast-flowing cloud over the Langdale Pikes. The reed beds of Foulshaw Moss are lit gold, for a moment. Helsington Pool gleams serpentine.down in the Lyth Valley. I am alone up here, with only the Welsh Black cattle for company.
A buzzard glided overhead. Meadow pipit and skylark sang, never daunted by mere wind. A flock of starling were vocal. I heard linnet and searching the gorse I came upon goldfinch. Both birds have nests deep in the gorse. I saw linnet low over the gorse, anxious for me to move on. So I did.
Wild weather and solitude is invigorating. A cool and blustery day with magnificent cloud-scapes. A Caravaggio landscape of darkness and light.
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