You know my Favourite Walk from the other day? Well, I couldn't resist, so I did it again, but I switched it up a bit by taking a different route, a flask of tea, a few biscuits and a book. The other day, you'll recall that I went through the Hundred Acre Wood; this time, I went past the cricket club where I saw a couple of people practising. You can't see them because the phone can't zoom, but they're there, chucking a cricket ball about. Nice.
But no messing today, I wanted to get to my favourite place, and I was there in minutes ... minutes, I tell you! The pond that used to be a field, here, looking exactly the same as the day before. I realise that you can't actually tell it's a pond and it does look like a field, but honestly, it's a pond. It's got reeds in it and frogs and everything.
This is my ambling place, where I slow down after legging it here really quickly, and I gaze about, smiling at flowers and trees and bits of gravel as thought I'm Sleeping-goddam-Beauty. If mice and squirrels and tweety little bluebirds start coming out of the trees and try to fix up my hair and make me pretty, I won't be surprised at all. I'll probably even start singing.
But I won't lie, I talk to myself round about here all the time, little practise conversations with 'real' and imagined people. I don't quite skip because I'm too hefty, but I'd say there's a spring in my step. I look utterly bonkers, but does anyone care? Not at all. I can walk however I like in my favourite place.
Since I'd brought my book – just to test whether reading would have the same effect on my walk as music did a few weeks ago – I needed somewhere comfortable to sit, so I thought I'd make my way over to the bench on the new road, which is up this little windy, hilly path.
But horror or horrors, there were two people sitting on my bench! This had never happened to me before, and I was fuming! Fuming, I tell you! Gerroff my bench! Look at 'em, looking all romantic as well; how insulting!
Course, I wasn't in the least bit fuming, because it's not my bench and anyone can sit on it. And it was a nice day and I knew there was a nice little spot near the bench where I could sit very comfortably and read my book and have my tea and biscuits, more than two metres away from the bench people. So I went there instead.
The view was still brilliant from here – in fact, exactly the same. Dramatic skies, rolling fields, the Bay and the Lakes. Usually, if I'm on my own, I like to just sit and look at everything. It's wonderful because my mind goes completely quiet and I don't think about anything at all except what's in front of me. I suppose it's like meditation, but it takes no effort at all. If Matthew's with me, we usually talk about all sorts of things. But today, I looked at my book, and my book looked back at me. My suspicion about the book was that it would ruin my walk by preventing me from noticing my surroundings, like the music did when I tried that.
But, ah, you see, this was probably the right book. Look, it even blends in a bit because it's got flowers and grass on it. Almost invisible. And this one is a book about being outside. Hardly any of it takes place inside. Morecambe Bay doesn't look anything like Andalusia – where this book is set – but I suspected the book wouldn't take me too far away from where I really was. So I tried it, and it was good. I read for half an hour, drank my tea and ate my biscuits, and had a thoroughly delicious time.
Once I started to lose feeling in my backside from sitting on the grassy hill, though, it was time to make a decision: should I go back the way I'd come and be home in ten minutes or should I go the other way and have a little stroll along the canal? You should know by now that when I ask myself this type of question the walk always wins.
Of course the walk wins, because it looks like this. To be fair, the front of my house with its wild brambles straining to pull out my bay windows looks fairly similar to this, but I'm there for 22 hours of the day – it can do without me for a couple.
And I'm sure I can feel my body drawing energy from the countryside in some weird Earth Mother type of way. Okay, I can't, because I don't believe in that kind of stuff; but I'm still feeling very energetic from my walks, and I guess that will just continue until I'm really old. My old doctor, Dr Longden (best doctor there ever was – anyone will tell you), used to say that if you don't use it you'll lose it. Yes, I know that it wasn't his saying and he pinched it, but he still said it all the time and he was right. And he should know because he's still going strong – just not doctoring anymore. He also used to say that you should eat whatever you like because you need to be happy. He did mention something about moderation, but I didn't really hear that bit.
Anyway, I carried on with the second leg of my walk today, which felt like a whole new walk because I'd had my book break in between. I was faced with another choice here: to get off the canal and walk home past the boys' old school or carry on a bit further.
The walk won again and I carried on. Have you noticed that canal bridges have little stalactites on them? I guess this is from stuff leaking through from the road. Who knew that roads were so leaky. (To grammar pedants, I have intentionally not added a question mark to that last question because it is rhetorical, and that is allowed!)
Look! The ponies and alpacas have multiplied! They also now have lots of buttercups to eat. I'm loving seeing how things change very quickly. If I'd never decided to do these walks, I'd never have known these ace animals were here and I'd never have known that they were joined by more. I'd never have known lots of things that I've learned over the past almost three months.
Further along, I was faced with my third choice: to get off here and walk home past the cemetery or carry on just a little bit further.
The walk won again! You knew it would, though. Mind you, it only just won – look how long this path is! I did walk up those little steps, but I came back down them, feeling all smug and proud of myself for not giving in. My resolve had almost given out, but I seem to be a bit stubborn and possibly quite good at endurance.
I made it to the end! Well, it's not the end, but it's as far as I could go without heading into town, and there was no need for me to stretch myself that far. The aquaduct.
And the castle. Awesome.
But tell me, why was the aquaduct built with this platform thing all the way along it? It looks like it was put here on purpose to tempt people to climb over. I mean, I wouldn't because I've got that weird thing with my legs that means they just can't be still and steady if there's any risk at all of me falling to my death – I think it's called fear of falling.
Does anyone else look at that and feel absolutely terrified? I'm sure it's not just me. It's a gorgeous structure, but still terrifying. Imagine dropping off the edge of that!
So, with those cheery thoughts, it was really time to head for home, not least because things were starting to hurt. I could've gone back to one of the little bridges and hopped off the canal that way, but I decided I'd see if I could remember the way I used to walk to work when I was a waitress. As an eighteen-year-old lass, I used to walk this way at 6am – I don't think my mum actually knew I walked this dark and dangerous path because she'd have had a thing or two to say about it. Well, she'll know now – hello, Mother! (I nearly typed Denise then! You'll recall how I don't really call my mum anything when I'm speaking directly to her.)
This is what the aquaduct looks like from the river bank. Imposing and impressive!
Very secluded ... and actually much longer than I remembered. I hadn't brought water with me and my tea was all gone – I really should think these things through! But actually, the tiny difficulties add to the adventure.
I remembered this bridge, and I remembered bringing the boys here with my friend Kate and her daughter Daisy a few years ago. We had a lovely afternoon out on one of the school holidays.
The kids all paddled here in the river. Ahhhh, they were lovely times, when my children wanted to be with me all the time. Oh my heavens, Linda, get a grip! Matthew's only twelve – they'll be with you for at least another ten years!
I was beginning to think that this was possibly the longest path in the whole of Lancaster, maybe even Lancashire, when these gigantic steps sprang up in front of me. I'm not joking, these are giant steps, made for people with 56-inch legs. I had to climb them – climb them, I tell you!
On the other side, there were more steps going down, but since they seemed to lead right into the river and I wasn't at all sure if I could get through that way, I decided I'd had enough exploring for one day and would take the path I could see leading to the road. The walk knows when it's beaten and it did not win this time.
This does look like a continuation of the long and winding path that goes on forever, but it isn't – the little dark patch at the end is the road, I assure you. I know this because I used to live on this street.
There, see, my old street. I wish I still lived on a street with trees on it.
Well, I was pretty much limping home now, if it's possible to limp on both sides at the same time; perhaps two limps cancel each other out. These old, knackered hips don't always like these long walks.
I'll spare you the photos and moanings of the last mile and a half of this epic walk because you've seen the route home before, past Ryelands park and all of that. This interesting structure did give me pause for a minute, though. Do you know what it is? If you live here you will probably know. But if you don't, you might not because it doesn't really look like anything. I will tell you ... it's a bus stop. It's been here for decades, and I can remember very occasionally waiting here for a bus to go into town. That was very, very rare though because we usually walked when I was very little, I think.
Last photo today. Here's the school I mentioned a few posts ago, the one that has been closed. Skerton High School. I just Googled it and there are meetings and things going on to try to get it reopened, probably not as a school but as some sort of community centre thing. That's nice, eh? There's another thing I wouldn't have known for ages if I hadn't started walking. Maybe over the next few years we'll see nice things start to happen here.
I made it home eventually, staggering into the house expecting my children to come running to see where the hell I'd been for over two hours and whether I was okay. They hadn't even noticed I'd gone, and no one offered me a nice cup of tea.
(If you haven't seen The Goldbergs, why not?)
Until tomorrow, dearest darlings,
WQ
Comments
Post a Comment