Countryside of Contrasts (Part II)

First there is Hadrian’s Wall.
Milecastles, hill forts and temples and bucket loads of history
from its turbulent English and Scottish conflicts.
Then there are the green fells and bubbling rivers,
stained tea brown from all the tannin.
And the heather-clad Pennines landscape,
Where sheep abound
And rare alpine plants can be found.

Mile upon mile of roller-coaster roads with their blind summits and hidden dips,
Twisting hairpin bends and narrow single lane bridges arching over wee burns.
And long forgotten viaducts striding over a river many vertiginous feet below.
Makes travel here very, very slow.

Invigorating walks lead past cottages built from honey-coloured stone
With pots full of bright red geraniums
and purple petunias cascading down the golden walls.
Where inviting tea-rooms, set amidst old railway tracks,
entice you inside with coffee and cakes to tempt you.
Rich chocolate brownies,
Victoria Sponge,
luxury carrot cake,
and scones with cream and jam.
Then the ultimate temptation –
coffee and walnut cake
And the promise of another walk.

Finding traditional pubs,
One dating back to the 12th century,
Another used as a meeting place in the Jacobite Rebellion,
where once men gathered in shadowy corners to discuss their secrets.
Now the smiling bar-staff greet you with their warm northern accents,
or possibly Polish.
They settle you in the same dark corners
with handwritten menus to inspect
and the daily specials chalked on the blackboard.

Villages and small towns with houses crammed together,
supporting one another down hidden snickets and narrow cobbled lanes,
where secret gardens lie.
Churches within ancient churchyards are open at all times,
Welcoming strangers to view their beautiful stained glass windows, bell towers, carved pulpits and unusual altars,
Or simply to admire the craftsmanship of the homemade pew cushions.
Lovingly stitched by a dwindling congregation.

Finally there’s the coast and the string of castles.
Wide, sandy beaches, river mouths and harbours.
There are tide timetables to consult, so you don’t get cut off.
Micro breweries and Craster kippers to taste,
seals and summer seabird colonies to visit,
There’s no time to waste

There’s a walk to a castle last occupied during the Wars of the Roses,
When the throne of England was hotly contested.
A church cut off from its village by the river changing its course
By a violent storm over two centuries ago.
History is around every corner and in every bloody step
of this ancient border country.

Herons and cormorants and twenty-five white swans
are seen on the River Coquet at Warkworth.
Swifts and finches fly in and out of the barns,
stopping to briefly rest on top of a stone wall beside you,
but not long enough for a photo.
They have things to do.

The call of an owl, the sighting of a hawk,
Dozens of rabbits scurrying around a churchyard at dusk.
A pair of Red Grouse strutting nonchalantly along the lanes
as if they know it’s not the shooting season.
And you sit with your engine idling until they are gone.

And the sky – the big open sky – cumulus clouds, a rainbow over the fells, the zillion stars and the Milky Way.
You want to gaze at it all the time,
Your eyes are drawn upwards,
It draws your breath away.

Driving home in the dusk after a very long day,
you round a final bend and slam on the brakes.
A young deer glides across the road.
It stops, hesitates, turns towards you,
eyes shining in the headlights,
then disappears back into the gloom of the woodland
from where it came.
Serendipity.

~wander.essence~ | Travel Poetry

New Life

When I first wrote about my holiday in the north Pennines and Northumberland it was in words and pictures, but many comments were made about the way the prose was almost poetic. With Cathy’s new blog stimulating creative juices about the way we travel and the different ways we can record it, I was driven to see if I could write an actual poem based on the words I used then. Mostly the same, with some additions and alternatives and of course, no photos. Am I insane to think I can write poetry? I hope you will honestly tell me in the comments below. 

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June Squares | Roofs

It’s the end of June and another 30 day challenge from Becky.  ‘The Life of B’

A difficult decision as to what to post for my final roof. Should it be one of the most magnificent roofs in the world – The Taj Mahal? Or a simple slate roof with a dovecote on top? Or what about a Chinese pagoda style roof? A glass roof? Cruves? Red tiles? Round tiles? Another tin roof? Or the roof of a car.

So many choices. So many still not posted.

I’ll go with these splendid red Norfolk clay tiles and the sumptuous sail-capped roof of the Cley windmill. Where you can have a meal, or even stay in the windmill itself. Rent the entire place for Christmas with the whole family if you like. You get great views over the Cley marshes towards the sea and the bird life in winter is magnificent.

I hope you have enjoyed the month of squares and roofs. I certainly have and it has been great fun sifting through the archives and discovering just how many roofs I actually have. Once again thanks to the wonderful Becky for hosting this fun challenge. I can’t wait to see what she has in store for us in September. No pressure Becks 😀

June Square | 30th June

June Squares | Roofs

It’s June and another 30 day challenge from Becky.  ‘The Life of B’ This month she is looking for a roof or roofs or even rooves. Follow the link for the rules.

Down at the exposed Lizard Point, the most southerly edge of mainland Britain, is this little gift shop which looks to have rocks cemented all around its roof to stop it from blowing away in those blustery winds!

June Square | 29th June