Unseen Scene....

I am reliably informed that the stretch of river that I frequently walk is home to a number of otters who gambol and play like otters do, and can be observed at certain times of the day on a regular basis.  Well.......I am yet to experience this reported delight, despite careful tactics and sneeky stalking techniques...and at the best times to observe their antics...

 By the same count......I am also told that Kingfishers can also be seen.......well.....
not by me it seems....

I am also yet to spot any crocodiles









Nor cheeky giraffes....





Just saying........

Leave it to Bessy.....

OK......so......if I were to whisper in your ear the words Bessyboot, Tarn at Leaves and Glaramara .....would you nod appreciatively or sidle away a tad perturbed.

To tread steadily up the course of tumbling Little Stanger Gill, early doors, enfolded in ancient woodland bedded on steeply sloped fell side, to emerge breathless and sweated in effort to a glorious view of an impossibly perfect Cumbrian vale.

To catch glimpse of a startled Jay fleeing in white rumped flash through Oak, Beech and Ash (yes, Ash)..

.To carry on up narrow gorge path to reach pastured, deeply contoured plateau of characterful fell with only wandering Herdwick to notice.

To rise onto the shoulder of the bouldered highpoint but still well below the airy soaring altitude of a watchful Buzzard.

To walk the ridge and undulating outcrops chasing a teasing Wheatear flitting the way forward.

         

To gently discover the hidden bowl cradling the still bracken-waters of a secret tarn.

To rise further across the deep combe of heightened slopes leading up to the fortress rocky peak with 360° vistas encompassing distant peak, ridge and valley. To descend the long tired softened edge to meet and follow beck side paths down into the boundary walled lower fells, eventually to meander through wooded field and farmland to a waiting de-booting at the car.....and a sock-padded shuffle into welcoming hostelry....and a late afternoon pint of ale.....
So.....if I were again to whisper...Bessyboot etc.....

Optimal Prime Time....

.....as aesthetically pleasing objects go, the Primus stove may not be everyone's cup of tea......as it were.
 However, to my eyes it is a thing of rare and un-natural beauty. It's simplistic tarnished shiny brassness of purpose makes me quiver with an un-fettered pleasure.
To assemble it's componant parts from it's battered old rust-dusted storage tin...to pricket it's burner.....to prime with meths....to tighten it's knobs....to light the warming trough.....(ah, the aroma!)....to pause.....pause.....and then gently pump the pressure plunger.....and bliss.....the controlled steady roar of the burner as it announces it's awakening......the evocative sound and smell that instantly recalls childhood memories of tenting, all damp canvas, groundsheet and netty-hessian. Tea and stew/plastic mugs and plates.........oh my...

I appear to have acquired several of these wonderful stoves, some of which proudly polished and buffed, adorn my abode as ornaments and plant pot plynths....and fine and dandy they look too....but my favorite is the one I still use as he is meant to be. Carried in his time-dented tin box and put to work up mountain, riverside or quiet roadside ....a complete visceral experience of set up and operation...resulting in a bacon-bapped and steaming tea-d offering.
To place the billy on his crown of heat to watch and wait.....ethereal.
He and I have shared some times.
I have been known to exercise him at home ....on a Sunday  morning, on the patio (the back yard)....just for the hell of it. Hell, a man needs a hobby, doesn't he?.....

Too much hassle....

.......um.....I had planned to post a load of previously collated pretty photographs, pithy witticisms and amusing anecdotes relating to a few of my former wanderings and meanderings...however....the bewildering amount of effort required to collate and transfer them from their present ethereal residency on F.B. to Once Upon appears to be greater than the effort that was required to actually partake in them.....so.....If anyone is at all interested, which I doubt, they can be found amongst the detritus and silliness on my little used F.B. page. I wish you well on your quest, Frodo.

Car Park to Skyline....

Cow Bridge car park is not a very inspiring name for the start and finish of a favorite walk of mine......but as a place.....it is.
Brothers Water seen early in the morning both literally and figuratively reflects the essence of inspirational Lakeland scenery. Much contemplation and rock-sitting in cogitative pose is called for, all distant and interesting in soft focus and slo-mo....y'know, like yer do...

However, after a sublimely gentle saunter along its shoreline and a casual meander across pastoral meadow,

a lung-busting, heart threatening 'diretissima' is experienced ascending the shoulder of 'little' Hartsop Dodd.

But what a ridge walk follows....as a Blue Peter presenter would say....'well worth a visit'.

A further short sharp ascent and even more stunning ridge walking is encountered to reach Hart and Dove Crags, and the vistas either side make a hoary old tramper tremble maiden-like with wistful pleasure.

Choices of descent...do we shortly scramble steeply down to continue along the companion ridge of Hartsop above How to revel in more ever opening, changing vistas, or do we half drop into Dovedale and contour around via stream, wood and quiet solitude......either way, it makes no difference to the pleasure gained from such a walk.

Soaring Buzzards, trilling Skylark, fleeting Swallow, baa-ing Herdwick, Curlew, Snipe and Woodcock accompany as visiting extras.....gentle breeze warmed by lazy sunshine....mild sweat of shirt-sleeved welcomed effort....cool hand-scooped beck-drink with only the occasional human interloper to exchange 'how-do's' with....

A day of complete 'respite' from modern-day life, immersed in beautiful  natural surroundings and with only bird, animal and thought as companion ....makes a difference......even Cow Bridge car park now seems acceptable...

Its Curtains.....

As Mr E. John once said...'Its a little bit funny'....Whilst the majority of this realm of ours basks in the meteorogical rarity that is known as sunshine, I and others like me who ply their trade in the biz known as show, spend our time locked in a darkened space ignorant of the balmy climes, more often than not diligently reproducing artificial sunlight for a captive audience......Just saying. ......

However, on the regular 30min morning drive that takes me from home to work through some stunning Northumbrian scenery, I managed to spot a deer, a fox, a badger, a hedgehog, rooks, pheasants and pigeons......all from the car....and all road-kill......so the experience turned out to be a bit flat really....