Helicopters

Hagg Wood – Clifftop Path – Wolf House – Jack Scout – Lindeth Road

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Bank Holiday Monday, as is so often the case, was a bit of a wash-out, weather-wise at least. What better way, then, to spend a wet day in May than chatting and playing daft games with old friends?

The Shandy Sherpa and The Beach Funster and I did escape for a shopping trip, incorporating a wander to The Cove and across The Lots.

These photos are from the day after, when the weather improved somewhat.

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These Sycamore keys – ‘helicopters’ when I was a nipper – have appeared on the Mystery Tree, or perhaps I should say Former Mystery Tree, which is by Hagg Wood.

I’ve been mulling over an idea on recent walks about why I prefer Spring to Summer, or at least one reason why I do. In Spring there’s an orderly progression of events: Snowdrops appear in the lanes and then in the woods by Hawes Water; then I expect to see Daffodils, Toothwort and Green Hellebore in short order; swallows will arrive around my birthday, Beech leaves shortly after. I know what to expect, roughly when to expect it and where I might find things. The changes are familiar, and reassuring, and limited in number.

But when summer comes around, I can’t keep up. There are new flowers everywhere, in profusion and a myriad of forms, many of which I can’t identify. One moment the new oaks leaves are yellow and wrinkly, the next they’re lush and green and obscuring the birds in the trees. Changes seem to happen at a bewildering rate. It’s not that I don’t like Summer, it’s just that I wish it would take its time a little more.

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Gibraltar Farm.

Anyway, this is now sounding like a moan, which wasn’t really my intention and which doesn’t fit at all with these photos from what was really a very pleasant stroll down to Jack Scout to watch the sunset.

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Swallows by Gibraltar Farm.

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Blackbird.

Except I missed the sunset: by the time I’d walked around the landward side of the field and reached the clifftop at the southern end of the site, the sun had already disappeared. The after show was pretty good though.

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In among all of the Foxgloves, which seem to have crept up on me and arrived tall and all-grown-up without warning, there was a single specimen with white flowers…

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Less whinging in the next post, I promise.

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Helicopters

7 thoughts on “Helicopters

    1. beatingthebounds says:

      I don’t think it’s ever struck me quite so forcefully as it has this year, just how relentless the changes are. Irises are particularly like that however. Back when I was single, I had some lovely irises in my garden, but most years I would go away at Whit and come back to find that they had flowered and shrivelled up all in the week I’d been away. Incidentally, in the Pyrenees large blue irises grow wild high in the mountains and flower mid-summer. Breathtaking. The only thing I can think of to compare is hillsides of Lupins in the Andes. I seem to have digressed!

  1. Interesting views on the changes in the seasons, especially for those of us i.e. Me, who don’t notice! Even more interesting is that I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of going for a walk on the Monday. Old age is going to be great

    1. beatingthebounds says:

      I think we did, just across the Lots. We bought a few bits in the co-op for tea, or lunch. I remember thinking it was okay that I didn’t have a shopping bag, because there were three of us to carry it and we could manage between us. I think we were looking for split peas, among other things.

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