News from Nowhere

There's a walk we do again and again, which we first found in a book, I think, described as a circuit from Edmundbyers - an elongated circuit, out along the valley and back at a lower level. We habitually start from the other end: we park near the chimneys on the Stanhope to Edmundbyers road, walk over to Edmundbyers (where there is at least the possibility of a pub and other facilities: we have, in the past, come unstuck over this, but yesterday it worked fine) on the top path, and back lower down.

It's a beautiful walk, but not easy to photograph. The higher path runs through heather upland, tawny and rounded, but with no real sense of contour: we are up here, and there is no view into the valley except far in the distance, where the world falls away below us. The lower path starts with a steep climb up from the valley floor, and then climbs gently with the Burnhope Burn in view for much of the way, snaking between green pastures and even a patch of trees. Part of the charm is this contrast bewteen two paths which are never really far apart, but there's magic, too, in the openness of the scenery, long open views which refuse to be framed by the camera.



There was a slight haze on the distances, and a fresh breeze, particularly on the return journey - by the end of the day I felt I'd been thoroughly scoured by the sun. But there were flowers everwhere - tormentil among the cropped grass, and tiny stems of milkwort, blue and pink and white. The track down to Edmundbyers runs between banks of gorse, and the air was heavy with its sweet coconut scent. Just before the corner where the stream runs across the path, we heard a raucous cawing, and looked up to see a pair of - well, they might have been red kites. Other than that, the usual bird life - mostly curlews and lapwings, and the odd gull. One pheasant took off within a couple of yards of me, in a great clattering of wings and voice.

The toad that hopped off the path in front of me had more sense - I could easily have trodden on it otherwise. durham_rambler saw a hare, but I missed it. We both saw the fluffy young calves in the fields round Pedams Oak - and the old farmhouse hasn't fallen down yet, though that can only be a matter of time. By the last mile I was feeling fine, ready to be out of the sun and the wind but not particularly weary, and then durham_rambler turned uphill off the broad track onto a narrow path which became an even narrower path which led across a bog (fortunately it has been dry lately, and only the moss, the bog cotton and a slight give underfoot revealed the true nature of this patch of land) to the last gate - and by the time we got back to the car I was suddenly exhausted.