Fond affections

Another day of torrential rain, another momentary lull late afternoon.

Up onto the Scar - an area that feels both bleak and homely at the same time. Here on a grim day can be a real fight, here it's easy to see the absence of the larger features, to pass by the miniscule grandeur hidden down low , to miss the beauty that endures by hunkering itself down. For miles in each direction the contours are hardly visible - but at the micro level there are canyons of limestone, clefts rich in rare flora. This karst landscape is full of sheep, but it's a hard place for them to move with ease - their semi wild wisdom has taught them the perils of the grikes - so the flora can flourish.

This banking of heather is scarcely two foot high but it carves a line of colour across the moorland that, despite this weather, shouts of the joys of summer.

In other news :
Someone has less than a week after it was erected, spray painted out the "Yorkshire Dale's" on the new National Park sign that's been placed on the park boundary betwixt Orton and Shap. There are some odd sad folk around.