The day started well…
Anita messaged to say she was going to be an hour late. Which was just as well because I’d only just woken up myself. I was still getting dressed when she arrived. Why it takes so long to take my tablets, drink my cuppa and eat my brekkie I don’t know but, these days, it takes me 90 minutes to emerge from my pit before I appear bright and shiny and ready to face the day…
Miraculously, the Cumbrian clag which had been wall to wall all morning (well, the bit of it I’d been awake for) withdrew back to the hillsides as Anita and Rufus arrived, almost as if it was waiting for the performance to start…
There are times when the mist ebbs and flows like a curious but shy lover…first it flows over the mountain tops and pours itself over the bracken-covered sides, before retreating upwards again as if the valleys were unsuitable for its needs…and then it surges forward again, then more tentatively rolling over the land before evaporating, fearing a rebuff…
As it happens, we all love it when it’s like this – atmospheric, mysterious, quiet and completely beautiful – so out we went for a walk round the Tarn 🐕🐕🏞🌫🐾🌲🌳🌲🌳🚶♂️🚶♀️🚶♀️
Back at the house at 4pm, it was time for lunch…And it was a team effort – a cracking all-day breakfast provided by Anita & cooked by me, on trays on our laps, watching Harry Potter 🥓🥖🥖🥚🍽 🧙♀️🧙♂️
All in all, a perfect day.
Tales From The Tarn 