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Last day of April, 2007. Calder in the Cheviots, bright and cloudless , coolish breeze from the south, vibrant visibilty.
Gorse splashes the hillside a brilliant yellow. Cunyan Crag. The calls of curlews, lapwings, grouse, skylarks, carry on the breeze. A peregrine hovers over Threestoneburn wood searching for unwary prey.
Summit of Hedgehope. Lunch, sheltered from the cool breeze by the cairn. To the south and west, a succession of horizons into the blue infinite. To the north and east, a patchwork of yellow, brown and green reaching to the coast.
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West face of Housey Crags. Ten metres of sound Cheviot granite. Idyllic place for beginners on a day like this.
Langlee Crags, Middleton Crags, Threestoneburn House under a translucent green canopy of shimmering birch leaves, the Dod, Calder. Weary limbs.
Geoffery Winthrop Young put it rather well:
‘There is much comfort in high hills,
And a great easing of the heart,
We look upon them and our nature fills,
With loftier images of their life apart,
They set our feet on curves of freedom bent, To snap the circles of our discontent.' |
