Another weekend in January and the sun is shining again. Generally, the weather has been foul – on Thursday night we had lightening and one of the heaviest and most prolonged hail showers I’ve ever seen. But if it all comes good at the weekend then I’m a happy man.
Some old friends in the village – empty nesters – had young visitors, nieces and nephews, who joined us for a tour of Eaves Wood. We took them, as we always do in these circumstances, to The Climbing Tree, a large coppiced beech which was once the The Other Climbing Tree, but which seems to have supplanted the original Climbing Tree, a yew, in the children’s affections.
Our city-dwelling guests’ anxiety about the numerous perceived dangers of the woods, and trees and the ‘mountain’ we were climbing, were hardly assuaged when, shortly after I took this photo, A fell out of the tree and banged her head. She was shaken, and chose to go home (but doesn’t seem to be permanently damaged).
What was left of the party continued to Castlebarrow, where the views were magnificent – the Bowland fells and Ingleborough were white-over with snow.
And either side of the sun, were sundogs…
When I raved to my friend the Painter about seeing this phenomena back in 2010, he was thoroughly underwhelmed – he sees them all the time apparently. It is his job to be out looking at the landscape and sky I suppose.
Still, I haven’t seen them since then so I was quite happy. By blocking the view of the sun with a hand, you could just about make out a complete halo around the sun.
We were joined near the Pepper Pot by a sizable group of walkers, presumably from a club. I don’t belong to a walking club at present, but having had many formative experiences whilst out on club trips in the distant past (Oadby Hill-Walking Club and Manchester University Hiking Club) I generally regard clubs as A Good Thing. (Especially, when they’re walking where I’m not, heh heh)
We took a more circuitous route home, taking in a few more Eaves Wood landmarks – the ruined cottage, the giant ant-hill, and the Ring O’Beeches where one beech has a branch which bends down almost to the ground and which the kids like to swing on. B showed-off by climbing up and along said branch and into the bole of the tree – given our families recent propensity for misadventure I had to bite my tongue and look away. Fortunately, there was a great view of Ingleborough to look away at. (And also, B didn’t fall off.)
(The rocks in the foreground are the top of the cliffs at Trowbarrow Quarry)
One of our young visitors was really enthused by the view. I told him that if he would come back in a few months, I would take him up there. His uncle, my friend T, wondered whether the invitation extended to him, since he’s never been up Ingleborough – so there’s another plan for this year.
Another sunny day, another stroll, another sighting of a sundog, another scheme for a day on the hill and another accident. I could really do without any more of the latter, but keep the rest rolling on.