Fields of Hope

As I said I would, I’ve been out for a longer drive, two in fact, since I last wrote here. The last one I was quite proud of since I managed to drive myself safely home after a one hour, forty minute run. I think I surprised myself there. It was a strange, and actually quite dramatic run I had. I’d decided to do a loop round Melbrek, since I knew the route already, but I didn’t want to drive to where one would usually park when going there, because it involved some really narrow roads and, depending on how busy it is, some very awkward parking. So I parked slightly further away from the track, thus giving myself a longer run. It being winter, I’d set off quite late in the day, and didn’t actually start running until twenty to four, and by the time I’d got to the track that looped round the mountain, it was just gone four. Light was beginning to fade, and what had started out as a beautiful winter’s afternoon was turning. Clouds were coming down over the mountain tops, and moving quite quickly. I picked up my pace round the back of the mountain, keeping an eye on the weather, and the other on where I was going. By the time I’d picked up the path that contoured up and swung back around to the lake, the wind had grown cold and dusk was beginning to take hold. I didn’t know if, or when, it would start raining, but the clouds looked rather threatening. I left the path I knew for what I thought might be a slightly shorter one, realising my mistake but a short time later. I had gained quite a bit of height by then, so I began a swift descent in the direction of the stream the main path followed. I had been running for maybe an hour by the time I came all the way down to the lakeside path, but the rain had held off, and I was feeling pretty good considering. Alongside the lake, I made pretty good time, and got to the path I had set out from after about another half hour. From there it was just ten more minutes back to the car. That ten minutes was hard, very hard. But I made it.

I think the low-lying cloud, the low light level and the few bits of snow dotted around the surrounding mountainsides made that one of the most dramatic, visually stunning runs I can remember doing. That said though, anywhere you go in the Lakes, on any day where you’re not in a thick blanket of cloud or fog, is visually stunning. But the lighting affects how you see things, can sharpen or blur your memory of the sights, make them stand out or seem relatively unremarkable. Today was definitely the former of the two.