As the UK begins its slow journey of repair, following the crisis of Covid-19, our countryside also begins its repair from Winter. I haven’t walked very much over these winter months. I’ve gone out every day of course, as and when I could, but my purpose has literally been to exercise the dog, rather than clocking the miles or any intrepid exploring for myself. Those walks I have done, have all incorporated thick mud, flooded paths, rain usually and routes that have proved unviable. I’ve been forced to seek out area’s with hard ground and found myself fortunate enough to live within the distance of two airfields, both currently grounded due to Covid-19. These have served me and the dog well, in these past months. Don’t get me wrong, I am certainly not a fair-weather walker only. I do enjoy a bit of mud and the need to use my brain to navigate around obstacles or re-route but, being honest, it gets lonely – it’s hard to recruit others to walk with me in these conditions – and as we come to the end of three-four long months, I am overjoyed when I see the subtle beginnings of Springtime. Nature shows us that it can repair and therefore so can we.
Today, the sun shone it’s pale golden rays, letting us know that for us here in the UK, slowly, the temperatures are heating up. The sky was a rich blue, housing white, cotton wool puffs of cloud floating through the sky on the back of a cool and gentle breeze. Today, I was able to walk a route that has not been possible for the past six months or so. Finally, the ground was dry and firm underfoot, well, for the most part. The paths were all perfectly accessible and the grass was beginning to regain its rich lushness. Although, I still strongly recommend good, waterproof footwear and layers for warmth at this time of year. However, today felt like Spring! Oh, don’t worry, I know we haven’t arrived fully at Springs doorstep just yet. March can still play with us in any way it chooses, but we do find ourselves on the cusp and for now, that’s just fine.
As I crossed a field with sheep grazing peacefully on their renewed, fresh grass, I came to the roadway. I noticed catkins appearing, dangling from branches and forcing their trees back into life once again. I’ve been seeing the delicate white glimpse of snowdrop carpets for the past few weeks, but now our banks are also adorned with crocus’s bursting through with their deep yellows and purples in bright excitement. I noticed Primroses flowering proudly – they always look so delicate to me. The kind of plant that if you tried to grow, you’d potentially fail miserably, but left to their own devices they show us just how tough and resistant they really are, as they pop up and thrive in the most unlikely of places. I even have primroses in my own back garden. I don’t know where they came from, I can only imagine a bird dropped the seeds, because I know I certainly didn’t. But they appeared last year, a pretty lemony yellow surrounded by sturdy green leaves. I was so pleased. For its best chance of survival, I stayed well away from it! Admired it from afar, I really did actually, the whole time it bloomed I felt lucky and grateful each time I saw it. This year, not only has it returned but its doubled, no, quadrupled in size. It’s special, I love it and I’m grateful to that little birdy for dropping this particular gift off to me.
The last spring flower I noticed whilst walking today, was the humble daffodil, bright yellow with booming, golden trumpets. They stood loud and proud. They are blooming in the wild and playfully reminding us that fun times are ahead.
As we turned left, onto the public footpath opposite the pretty village church, the recently built pheasant pens stood empty. Not that my dog was interested in those, he remembered that this is where the stream runs. It was time for a swim! For the first time in such a long time, the water ran clear. Babbling and bubbling as it hurried through the brook. The furry one wasted no time in jumping in and cruising himself along in utter bliss.
We continued on, me ahead of him, wise to his shake upon exiting water. I noticed a noise overhead, one I hadn’t heard in what feels like such a long time and it stole my attention. An aeroplane! A proper, white, full size jumbo jet, soaring high above us in the empty sky and for a moment there, everything felt, well, normal. Who would have thought a year ago, how wondrously appreciated ‘normal’ would feel? We passed several other walkers on the route, at social distance of course, all taking advantage of the beautiful day and what remains of our stunning unspoilt countryside. It felt so good to be taking part in countryside walking again, not just for the purpose of exercising my dog, but for the purpose of exercising me, as well. Filling my lungs with fresh, clean air and filling my senses with inspiration. Letting my mind wander and be free, absorbing all of nature’s beauty with every step I took. Being back out there feels amazing!
It doesn’t matter how far you walk or where you walk, whether its 26 miles over the Yorkshire three peaks, the national peaks in twenty-four hours, a five mile round loop with the dog or a short stroll along a canal. What’s important is getting out there and appreciating all the beauty that surrounds us throughout the year. As I’ve written before in my Dear Diary blogs, nature serves to teach us through all the seasons, if we’re only willing to learn.
I’ve been busy planning the walks I’d like to accomplish this year, climbs I’d like to achieve and places I’d like to visit. I’m all ready for as and when we are allowed. I’d like to climb Snowdon again, but as a daytime walk this time, so to compare and see all the beauty I missed during my midnight climb. Then of course, the Lake District is on my radar, once the mad dash has calmed. I wouldn’t be disappointed with any of the mountains that the Lakes offers but ultimately, my first love, Helvellyn has been calling the loudest.
Side note: To anybody interested in walking, particularly climbing Helvellyn in the Lake District, I recommend a program which is currently showing on BBC iPlayer, called “Life on a Mountain”. There is an episode called “A Year on Helvellyn”. One hour and twenty minutes long which, personally, I found completely motivating. The filming and photography is stunning and even if you are not interested in some of the topics and local hobbies discussed, there is more specific climbing of the mountain itself, around the middle of the program.
The others on my Lake District list are Tarn Hows, incorporating Tom Gill waterfall and Black fell. Loughrigg fell, Wansfell once again, and maybe I won’t get lost on the descent this time! Catbells is on the list. Plus, I’d like to perhaps kick all this off with a gentle re-visit of Helm Crag, having done that many years ago. Lastly, no – never lastly – The Old Man of Coniston has gone on my list too. And that’s just the Lakes. In the Peak District I have plans for the Kinder Scout and Edale walk, taking in the waterfalls. I cannot wait!
Today, all credit goes to my 14 year old niece who’s actions re-inspired me. She was the reason I chose to expand my currently limited walking routine and return to the walk I did. I learned that she had set out on an extremely ambitious walking mission, early doors today, with her ‘+1’ exercise companion and it reminded me of all the energy and passion that I hold for walking, not realising in these past months, that I’d almost forgotten. Walking had become almost a chore, a task that I had to do. Until that flame was relit by the spark of somebody else getting out there, into our countryside, backpack on and set miles in mind. Her challenge inspired and excited me again and the beautiful hint towards Springtime that we were blessed with today, served to stick a bow on top of the package.
Who or what has inspired you today? Drop me a line and let me know!
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