Back to Our Roots

My good friend of 35 years has been with me for 24hours. Currently residing in Dunedin New Zealand we see each other seldom.

After a late night/early morning staring bemusedly at the live coverage of the election we needed a head clearer.

Both born and bred in Cumberland a day walking in the fells felt like going back home. It was good to catch up, fill in some of the distance of our separately lived lives, remember days we spent walking these hills down the years, many together. Talking and quiet and a sense of place that grounds us.

We arrived home to pick up Eric's daughter - my Goddaughter Rose and her young man from the train station. They had been intent on a short walk on the moor, it was absolutely chucking it down, but but off they went in jeans and inadequate foot ware - young love I commented, they'll be back in a minute.
A good while more than a minute they arrived at the front door soaked and radiant, Rose with a ring on her finger. Happy Day, and not bad for a southerner - proposing on Ilkley Moor Baht'at. - I hope they won't "catch thy deeath o' cowd".