shewhomust | Playing hooky

We took Thursday off, and went to see a temporary art installation which is coming to the end of its time:

This oughtn't be such a big deal: we work for ourselves, we control our own time, but we don't often drop everything midweek, even though we can. As it was,

durham_rambler spent the beginning of the morning in a meeting at County Hall. But he was home by mid-morning and we set off, down to the southern border of the county, the river Tees.

We left the city under changeable skies, dark clouds and fits of sunshine spotlighting the autumn colours on the trees. The valley was a bowl of light below us as we drove up the dale, but we could see low clouds ahead. By the time we were into the high Pennines we were in mist, with just enough sun to make a hazy rainbow.

We parked at Bowlees, as we have done many times before setting off for a walk: but now the visitor centre (a former Primitive Methodist chapel, one of the many in the region that have found new uses) has been spruced up to serve the North Pennines Geopark. We went to a lecture about Geoparks last year, and I came away with even less idea than I had going in of what that UNESCO designation means: I think it recognises a combination of interesting geology and presentation of that geology in the service of sustainable tourism. But I may be wrong. Geology it certainly has, and not just the mineral seams which make the north Pennines lead mining country. A couple of fields away the hard rock of the Whin Sill emerges, creating the waterfalls of High and Low Force:

It was drizzling slightly when we arrived, but the visitor centre supplied us with a warming cup of (good) coffee, interesting information boards to look at and an emergency purchase of lip balm. It's a short walk down the lane, over the road (the only tricky bit), across the field and through either the gate or the narrow gap in the wall to the woodlands. 'Natural Creation' is dotted among the trees at the bottom of the slope, nearest to the river, a mixture of monoliths:

(if something made of sheet steel can be called a monolith) and silhouettes, standing figures which vanish into their surroundings:

Artist Rob Mulholland says on his website that "'Natural Creation' celebrates the creative power and majesty of nature," and that "[t]he mirrored figures represent our innate connection with our natural environment. They stand passively guarding the elements; a vestige of our past and a mirror to our future." Well, if you say so. I didn't get any of that from the work itself, but I won't carp, because I liked it.

The footbridge a cross the Tees has recently been closed for emergency repairs, but it is now open again, so we crossed it:

and scrambled up the steps to where a couple of sheep watch over the Pennine Way:

We could have walked on to High Force, and beyond, but we'd done what we'd come to do. It was time for lunch. The information board told us there was a 'Farmhouse Kitchen' not far away at Holwick - "and if it's closed," said

durham_rambler, "there's the Strathmore Arms just down the road." Imagine his disappointment when the Kitchen was indeed closed, and we had to lunch at the pub instead! Which was fine, once I had made my choice from the extensive cider menu. My steak and ale pie was square, which was unexpected, with a high crimped edging ("I wonder if they have a licence to crenellate?" said

durham_rambler

We took the scenic route back, on the excuse that we wanted to visit the farm shop at Bradley Burn. The back road out of Middleton-in-Teesdale turned out not to be a through road, but a steep turn down from it deposited us close to the gated road we'd seen earlier. The farm shop was a disappointment, with a much smaller stock of fresh food than on our last visit, but it compensated us, as we drove away, with a magnificent rainbow, the entire arch enclosing the old manor house. After that, a call at the Co-op in Crook for emergency shopping brought us down to earth with a bump.