Beginning of last week saw holiday taken, and a familiar A5084 dart through Torver and Coniston after a lazy breakfast
of milk-drenched flakes and stewed peaberries. A sky of blue and utter summerage; Amblesidealready bustling with cameras,
maps, and so many boots, coloured laces, and bags with straps and pockets.
Over the Kirkstone junction and quickly to Grasmere, slowing upon arrival.
My parking spot under the tree nicely vacant on landing: now taken with a freshly warm, clicking, and satisfied motorcycle.
Skulk to beloved Baldrys (click/tap) for coffee, having navigated the queues outside the shortbread shop by the church.
Thinking to be done - somewhere quiet. Out to Crag House and on to gentle Scorecrag, with a perch
found on a tree stump overlooking the Fairy Glen and upwards to Rydal Fell opposite.
Oh the luscious land, the sheep who graze sleepily without a care,
and the clouds that drift and wick my thoughts.