Originally published 16\/09\/2020<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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By Stephen Fender<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Haweswater; the wind pushes cold<\/p>\n\n\n\n while the low grey sky hides Riggindale<\/p>\n\n\n\n from view. At the road’s end we leave the car,<\/p>\n\n\n\n with others; parked,<\/p>\n\n\n\n like a sulking child, as we begin<\/p>\n\n\n\n our slow assent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of us leaves to walk a lower<\/p>\n\n\n\n path, he’ll study<\/p>\n\n\n\n the sharp seclusion<\/p>\n\n\n\n of England’s last Eagle; for a while<\/p>\n\n\n\n share its solitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As the rest of us climb, we fight against<\/p>\n\n\n\n the wind; it plays<\/p>\n\n\n\n with our resolve, tests our<\/p>\n\n\n\n determination; dragging the colder sky<\/p>\n\n\n\n ever closer. Breathless,<\/p>\n\n\n\n we stop at a dry stone wall<\/p>\n\n\n\n slowly undoing itself and look across<\/p>\n\n\n\n at trees huddled together,<\/p>\n\n\n\n keeping warm near Gatescarth Beck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Beyond Swine Crag the path<\/p>\n\n\n\n becomes uneasy; fearful<\/p>\n\n\n\n it may lose us to the wind. At times<\/p>\n\n\n\n we hide<\/p>\n\n\n\n or cling perilous,<\/p>\n\n\n\n to warm tea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Bleak, we find the cairn of Rough Crag<\/p>\n\n\n\n in a gap of low lying cloud. We sit near,<\/p>\n\n\n\n like soft stones, and consider the thrill<\/p>\n\n\n\n of wild places.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Riggindale turns steep as it falls<\/p>\n\n\n\n upwards, towards High Street. Now a gale<\/p>\n\n\n\n sails past, prising our feet from the ground<\/p>\n\n\n\n as our hands grasp rock. Some of us turn back,<\/p>\n\n\n\n defeated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then<\/p>\n\n\n\n as if we’d done the right thing, the day<\/p>\n\n\n\n wakes up, sky appears as the cloud slides<\/p>\n\n\n\n away to play elsewhere,<\/p>\n\n\n\n taking the wind with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Suddenly we find ourselves surrounded<\/p>\n\n\n\n by another day; warm, unruffled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We watch the others climb<\/p>\n\n\n\n the Long Stile to reach their last step<\/p>\n\n\n\n to High Street. They’ll see now the blue<\/p>\n\n\n\n in the green of Blea Water, and hear<\/p>\n\n\n\n the last call of the Nan Bield Pass, and then<\/p>\n\n\n\n an easier rock<\/p>\n\n\n\n will lead them home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I hear a different voice; a small voice;<\/p>\n\n\n\n a bird’s song chiselling away<\/p>\n\n\n\n at emptiness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We follow the same path down, sit<\/p>\n\n\n\n cornered; the sun’s breath against our back,<\/p>\n\n\n\n we find a dead sheep relaxing on the grass,<\/p>\n\n\n\n watch colour, as it fills the world<\/p>\n\n\n\n with life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n An almost perfect Dor Beetle,<\/p>\n\n\n\n polished blue and an unexpected Pipistrelle<\/p>\n\n\n\n Bat, skimming like a black stone upon<\/p>\n\n\n\n some pool of air, overhead,<\/p>\n\n\n\n sew the two parts<\/p>\n\n\n\n of our surprising day<\/p>\n\n\n\n together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then, as the afternoon stands knee deep<\/p>\n\n\n\n in the cool water of the lake, we close our circle;<\/p>\n\n\n\n arrive at the beginning, to find our friends;<\/p>\n\n\n\n those who followed another path. It seems<\/p>\n\n\n\n it’s not the path that’s trod that means a lot;<\/p>\n\n\n\n but the treading<\/p>\n\n\n\n and the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Haweswater; the wind pushes cold<\/p>\n while the low grey sky hides Riggindale<\/p>\n from view. At the road’s end we leave the car,<\/p>\n with others; parked,<\/p>\n like a sulking child, as we begin<\/p>\n our slow assent.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[72],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-202","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/202","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=202"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/202\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1541,"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/202\/revisions\/1541"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=202"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=202"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/research.northumbria.ac.uk\/onedgecreativearts\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=202"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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