Ain’t no sunshine today but I still manage a short walk in the rain.
I suppose I’ve become a fair weather walker. I choose my days when I know [hope] the weather is good, like last week. I can afford to be selective. That wasn’t always the case. Many wet weekend climbing trips were spent in a steamy café [Llanberis, Ambleside, Hathersage] with tea and toast to while away the hours before driving home. Long-distance walks would always throw up a few wet days although I was considered lucky in my choice of a holiday week.
There will be people out walking trails this week, the holiday season is upon us, who have enjoyed the dry hot conditions and now have to continue on the wet days. Variety is the spice of life, or so they say. My thoughts are with them – it is all character building, that’s what I tell my Grandchildren. We’ve all endured a day of soaking weather and yet remember the experience, if not fondly, but with some pride in having survived and enjoyed a pint in the pub that night.
Back to today. The skies are grey and it is raining but I tell myself that I must get some exercise and avoid a depressing day as Bill Withers’ song suggests. A poignant song as always but particularly so at present as one of my best friends is suffering a form of dementia.
I choose my usual ‘fall back on’ stroll around lanes and through the village. The cricket pitch looks dismal and the encroaching housing estate doesn’t help. No match today. Lord’s Lane leads up into the mist and there is no sign of any fell tops. Along the old railway track into John Smith’s Park is dank and dark – unlike a painting by talented local artist, Emma Lord, I bought last week at Create Longridge Day, This painting was on a day of light shining through the branches onto the same path I’m walking today.
I’m home, not unduly wet and semi-satisfied I’d made the effort.
As an aside, though it may be connected, one night last week in the hot sweltering weather I was awakened by a bat flying around my bedroom! It must have entered through my open skylight and now was lost. Concerned for its welfare I opened all my other windows but it persisted in its circular orbits. When it eventually landed I was able to scoop it up in a carton and free it outside. I presume it was a Pipistrel but I’m not sure, it’s not easy to photograph a flying bat with your phone in the middle of the night. An unusual encounter that lifts one’s spirits.
It’s been a wet Sunday.
That’s professional blogging – making something out of nothing. I love that music. As so often things that are excellent tend to look easy but those guys are playing from the heart – I almost had a cry.
Are you trying to “out-frog” me with your bat?
I think bats have sharp teeth, I almost called the plumber.