Earlier this week we arranged to meet my daughter and her partner at a lovely old Inn in the Forest of Bowland. My husband and I have enjoyed many walks in this beautiful part of our country.
A few years ago friends met us at the same Inn to start a ten kilometre hike. We sat on the terrace overlooking a bubbling stream close to the the outer wall of the hotel. On the other side of the stream was a beautiful green pasture dotted with grazing sheep. Undulating hills stretched across the horizon, their contours stark against an almost cloudless sky. Down the side of one of these smaller knolls, patches of mauve heather, interspersed with scree, created a sharp contrast to the many different shades of green. We watched as Dippers flew just above the water level beneath us. After landing on a stone for a few seconds they’d dive down into the stream then pop back up and fly off.
When I close my eyes I can still vividly recall this picturesque scene and feel a sense of peace and tranquility wash over me. A perfect example of an idyllic English countryside! Having sat on this terrace many times since that first summer’s day, I never fail to marvel at the splendour of nature. I have watched as the different seasons cast their unique spells over this special little valley hidden deep in the heart of Lancashire!
So, earlier this week we arranged another visit to introduce my daughter and her partner to this sanctuary away from the ‘madding crowd’. We could spend a few hours forgetting life’s drudgeries and many challenges and take a walk along the winding country lanes. We would climb a hill and spread our picnic on a blanket, looking down onto little homesteads. We’d watch livestock feed on luscious pastures as we enjoyed the warm sunshine and marvelled at the beauty of our surroundings. Only the sound of a faint breeze ruffling the leaves of the fir trees in the wooded copse behind us, would break the magical silence.
That was the plan.
Well, we got quite close! We did wander along quiet country lanes and managed to scramble up the side of a hill overlooking a farm. Livestock were grazing on the pasture beneath us. However, the backdrop wasn’t one of a blue cloudless sky. This sky held many clouds of different hues, mainly greys, ominously filling the heavens. The strength of the wind forcing its way though the fir trees in the copse behind us, sounded menacing. Sitting at either end of the tablecloth to prevent it from escaping down the hill, we managed to unpack our fare. We were determined to enjoy this special outing and made a concerted effort to ignore the dampening weather!
But, it was our lucky day! There was no storm, only a small shower. For a few minutes I sat with an umbrella in one hand and a sandwich in the other! The wind surging through the fir trees gradually began to subside! The dark grey clouds rushed past us in winds far exceeding those at ground level. Gradually little cracks of blue appeared, becoming brighter as those dark clouds were speedily replaced by large white tufts of cotton wool.
That evening, as my daughter and I sat on the terrace nursing a well deserved gin and tonic, we looked down at the bubbling stream and on to the green pasture. The sun was moving slowly behind the darkening hills. A few geese waddled along the bank. I could feel the peace begin to wash over me. Suddenly I sat up with a jolt. There was something missing! And then it struck me. There were no sheep! For the scene to be picture postcard perfect it needed sheep grazing contentedly on the lush green grass!
Alas, even in this idyllic haven deep in the Lancashire heartland, perfection isn’t guaranteed! It came close! I can live with that! 👠
Jenny Burrell 