I went out for a walk this afternoon. I'd been out the other day but I didn't go very far at all on that occasion. This was the first proper walk I'd been out on for weeks. I've got an exercise bike which I use a lot so I don't have to go outside to get exercise. Today I was driven out partly by the good weather and partly by a worry that I might be getting low on vitamin D!
It's been a fine afternoon here. The sky, if not cloudless, has been mostly blue. It seemed to be windless as you walked along but when you stood still you realised there was the faintest suggestion of a breeze. I made for the end of the lane, the border of the village, and headed off across the fields. Through gaps in the walls and hedges I caught a glimpse of a small group of people out walking a dog. I actually met no-one during the course of the walk though. I saw two other people a long way off and once heard a disembodied woman's voice talking. It was too far away for me to make out what she was saying. It was the sort of still day when sound can carry a long distance.
I'd set off quite late and the shadows of the trees were already lengthening across the grass. I had plenty of time before the sun set, though. Wanting to soak up as much vitamin D as I could, I took off my t-shirt. The air was so mild one could do this and still felt perfectly comfortable. I hadn't intended to go very far but the sight of the top of the steep bank only a few fields away was too much to resist.
Once I reached the top, I spent a few minutes wandering around. I've written before about how lockdown restrictions make you pay more attention to your local surroundings. A small stream runs down the bank at this point and, although I hate to admit it, I realised I'd no idea where it came from or where it went. Since there's no trace of it further down the hillside I realised it must disappear underground at some point. I followed it upstream to discover where it started. I didn't have to go far. It emerges from the ground a few yards into the field behind the bank. I then turned and followed it downstream until I came to a point where it disappears among a cluster of stones. There are a few puddles and damp patches of grass after that but then it vanishes altogether. Streams are famous for doing disappearing acts in limestone landscapes. However, whether this one does so because of the geology or as a result of deliberate land drainage, I've no idea. Perhaps it's a combination of the two. It is shown on the OS map, though - a short, blue line that begins and ends abruptly. I have a feeling I know where it re-emerges but it only occurred to me once I'd got home. I'll give it some thought next time I go out.
Interesting. They come and go.
ReplyDeleteEspecially round here, it being limestone country.
DeleteYour walk sounds wonderful especially after a long, pandemic winter. It is interesting how the stream just starts and then ends when it goes underground. It is still a bit too cool here for much of a walk but hopefully soon it will be warmer. I'm looking forward to it.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the video and music very much, but coffee? I've not heard that translation. It was fun.
It is a good laugh, isn't it? I think the history of coffee and coffee houses is really interesting.
DeleteIt was beautiful here yesterday as well. Blue sky and not a breath of wind. I can't wait to be back on the fells but the lockdown has given me an appreciation for my local surroundings. X
ReplyDeleteSame here. The fells are just a few miles up the road. So near yet so far...
DeleteIn our heavy clay part of the world we don't have streams disappearing - just plenty of ditches full of water! But what is interesting here is working out the way the water flows eventually into which river - often in totally different directions
ReplyDeleteInteresting here, too. Anyone driving round would think this is Wensleydale - it's often referred to as such. In fact, our beck flows into the Swale.
DeleteWe have quite a lot of water here(!) and many little streams and ditches that take the runoff from the hills. After our very wet winter there is no problem seeing where they are coming from and going to. Our lawn is like a rice paddy at the moment.
ReplyDeleteCould you grow rice?
DeleteWent with you on the walk in spirit - and loved the musical finale.
ReplyDeleteIt is a good walk. It was either the Bach or another John Rogers film!
DeleteIt is fascinating wondering where water comes from and then following too source. The Mendips fed the hot water to the hot baths at Bath.
ReplyDeleteI was taken to see the Bath baths when I was very small. I occasionally think of going back.
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