Alongside the festival at the Hearth was a display of crafts by local or resident artists; gorgeous glass and ceramic works by a girl from Bardon Mill; chairs adorned with sunflower backs in glass, pheasants hidden in camouflaged ferns and the most beautiful 'picture' in glass of Linhope Spout; H1 asked for it for birthdays , Christmas et al but his regular spending waved that £700 gift away from adorning our walls.
Ingram Valley up in the Cheviots is where I have heard the cuckoo every year...
Cuckoo comes in April
Cuckoo sings in May
Changes tune in the middle of June
and then he flies away.
I used to go up Ingram Valley with students to do river studies. It is also a great place to build dams across the Breamish no matter what your offsprings' age! In summer sunshine, steely-nerved local youths leap off the top of the waterfall and plummet into the perfectly round plunge pool below.
Our visit was made through a fine mist. We stalked across the moor while, as in days of yore, the 'Scots' tried to evade our visit! Our trousers were tugged at and damp trainers suggested we should have put our walking boots on after all.
We strode upvalley to find the peaty, brown beck nosing noisily through a verdant vale.
A frothing cascade tipped over the rocky edge and, like a foundling, transformed through white lace roughness into the dark,silent and sinister depths below.
Our presence was observed by the local inhabitants!
No comments:
Post a Comment