Scaleber Force

It rains and rains. Will it ever stop? Thick grey cloud down to a hundred metres or so, engulfing the lanscape and saturating it. Low fields and roads flooded. But the rivers and waterfalls are beautiful. The local name for a waterfall - force - seems very apt now.

Just before dusk a pause in out of hours calls allowed me to venture to Scaleber Force. What a contrast to this, taken in the drought, at the same fall.

Approaching the little knot of tress that guard the lip where the beck plunges to the pastures below, the thundrous roar of hundreds of tons of water could be heard, a low warning grumbling. The intensity grew as I reached the confines of the gill. Don't slip. Wet limestone and the now deafening roar of the awesome power of water and gravity combined alerted that primeval recognition of danger. How very small we are. And all the time thundering, thundering, relentlessly, endlessly.

I have been very slack with my blips of late. Thank you to those of you who let me know that you enjoy them, and it is lovely when people actually miss them! A bout of 'flu laid me low for a time and left me as uninspired as the weather, unable to find the enegy to care much for a while. Then a trip (for work!) to the Caribbean - which I have backblipped starting here for anyone who's interested. I shall try to be more regular again!