did

Random Canadian hill-walking gentleman (here to deliver his daughter (doing a masters in archaeology) to uni) and the bush whose identity he asked me. I'd gone off for a wander round the hill in the vague hope that there's be someone whose permission to include them in a photograph I might seek. This bloke was looking a little bit unsure of whether he was going up or down a bit which is often quite tricksy in the damp so I'd stopped to check he was managing, told him it was a gorse bush and had a wee chat about non-indigenous species of plant bollocksing up various landscapes, slippiness of hills and students' behaviours. I would have given him a blipcard but I didn't have any on me* so shall have to rely on random chance allowing him to discover his picture.

Despite having headed up and over the hill then down the long way he was only about fifty metres away when I got back to the start of the path but I carried on over the top of the crags to have a look at the path-closing rockfall from above and to see if there was any kind of Danger! signage equivalent to the closed path beneath. I'd had a quick wander along the path the other evening but couldn't see whence the human-sized chunks of rock had fallen as it was quite dark at the time (I was worried about being spotted obviously walking through path-blocking barriers and being told off (or worse) by park-officials (or worse)) but was interested in why they'd all suddenly fallen off after at least fourteen years of minimal rockfall-type activity (at least around the crags - the road round the back is quite often speckled with little tiny rocks on weekend mornings) and if any more (and larger) chunks looked as if they might be dropping off anytime soon. I'll link some of the pictures later on but it looked as if it might be the roots of crag-top plants squeezing into fissures.

*bwaaark