Cronk

There were 4 ravens riding the wind lifting over the top of the Helm, these two are peeling away as we approach, the lower cronking loudly. I love the aerobatics of ravens, great aeronauts who fly for the sheer joy of it - because they can.

It was a lunchtime walk with Sue and Rowan, Matt and little Lily, and Gus. They had a great time, with Rowan carrying a log almost all the way to the top, Gus rounding him up, and Lily running rings around both of them.

I called in the blip consultant tonight. The alternative image she pronounced a bit unsettling. It was an unusual sunrise seen from the higher slopes of the Knott. The sky was still blanketed with grey cloud, but the sun rose into a notch in the skyline and was visible briefly as a huge yellow eye before disappearing into the grey. It was the more unsettling for the appearance of the Arnside Bigfoot who came up behind me barefoot and unheard, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey shorts. I was wrapped up in three layers to keep out the morning cool and rain.