Thursday 20th December 2018, 1.45pm (day 2,674)
Little to add except that it was time to get out into some mountains again — even if they weren’t very high. The late December gloom never really lifted all day, but for this shot, it doesn’t matter.
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Tag Archives: Lake District
Self-portrait on Wansfell
Friday 2nd November 2018, 1.00pm (day 2,626)
I’m on a three-day weekend (Thursday, Friday, Saturday). I can think of worse places to spend it. In the background: Red Screes, Caudale Moor, Thornthwaite Crag.
Sheep drive, Scarth Gap
Thursday 6th September 2018, 2.50pm (day 2,569)
The weather was mostly good over these two days and only in the final hour or so was there some drizzle. This came down while I descended, aching and exhausted, from Scarth Gap (the notch in the hillside above) to Buttermere, while these sheep all went up the other way. There is a shepherd and dog just out of shot to the left. I did get some shots of them all coming up towards me as well, but this is the best one.
Cemetery, near Sellafield
Wednesday 5th September 2018, 12.50pm (day 2,568)
I am posting this and tomorrow’s pic while lying in bed on Friday morning recovering from a two-day hike. Between 11.15am on Wednesday morning and 3.30pm on Thursday I walked 30 miles, which I calculate as an average of around 1.05 miles/hour even while I was asleep. No wonder I feel a little delicate this morning.
Anyway, looking back — it’s never easy to choose only one photo to encapsulate a day of varied landscapes and experience, but being very close to the delights of Sellafield nuclear power station (or ‘reprocessing plant’, or whatever it is these days) was certainly a significant feature of day 1. i was hard up against the perimeter fence at one point. It hisses, throbs, puts out strange noises and generally dominates everything round here in West Cumbria. So it can feature today, albeit in the background of this shot of the churchyard where I sat and had my lunch.
Hopegill Head in the clouds
Tuesday 21st August 2018, 12.40pm (day 2,553)
I’m still off work and have no intention of going back for a few days yet, so time for another Lake District walk. Rather dull, grey weather did limit the photo opportunities, but with this shot, of the fell known as Hopegill Head, seen from the north, there was a rare moment of faint sunlight which caught the clouds and the green fellside below.
Angletarn Pikes summit
Monday 6th August 2018, 11.40am (day 2,538)
On the higher of the two summits of Angletarn Pikes, the gentleman seems determined to draw the attention of his wife towards the less interesting half of the view.
There’s something strange going on with this shot don’t you think? It almost looks artificial, like the two models are in a studio and the mountains are back projected. Brothers Water looks strange too, like all this is a collage I’ve pieced together and then stuck on a bit of tin foil in a deconstructionist kind of way.
Ullswater
Saturday 21st July 2018, 10.45am (day 2,522)
While the very warm and sunny weather seems to have come to an end, it was still a fine day for messing around in the Lake District.
I assume, incidentally, that one of the two boats is at least thinking of heading to the island to retrieve the people seen thereon. If not, it was quite a swim to the shore from there.
Three have fun on Crummock Water
Saturday 7th July 2018, 11.25am (day 2,508)
Hard to find much to complain about today, photographically or otherwise. And certainly no need to take further shots of toilets.
Cottongrass and boulder
Wednesday 13th June 2018, 1.50pm (day 2,484)
Today was one of those days where I could take advantage of the fact that my job often requires me simply to read things, in this case a draft PhD thesis; so into the pack it went, and out into the country I went. No thanks to the local train service, but that’s another story. The thesis was read. Well, about two-thirds of it anyway.
Over the boulders
Tuesday 29th May 2018, 1.40pm (day 2,469)
“Come on a walk up Scafell Pike, son. It’ll be fun. You can have the pleasure of attaining the highest point in England,” says I, a few weeks back. I’m sure there were points today when Joe cursed me for letting me talk him into this particular hike — particularly here on Ill Crag, one of the subsidiary peaks nearby, and the first outrageous excrescence of boulders into the journey. This picture can also be presented with the benefit of hindsight and knowing that in fact, there’s worse still to come before the summit — all 3,210 feet of it (978 metres) — is attained.
But he made it. And it was a beautiful day.
Being 42 