It was a glorious day and Hubby, Zack and I went for a walk to Green Hill. Our original destination had been Ghyll Head, a WAADA site where fly fishing enthusiasts enjoy angling in peaceful scenic surroundings. Indeed, Hubby, my brother, sons and many of our guests have gone fishing there at various times using our corporate membership passes. Ghyll Head is all of five minutes’ drive from our Bowness guest house. Although dogs are not allowed into its environs, we had intended to park the car there and then walk Zack along the country paths nearby.
Our plans were foiled, however, because we could not find a suitable parking space at Ghyll Head, so we decided to drive on. A couple of minutes’ later, we discovered Green Hill, where we parked to the side of the cattle grid and farm gate. As we drew up in the car, a dog walker was leaving through the farm gate with her labrador. A few minutes’ later, a group comprising half a dozen people passed through the gate whilst we followed behind at a leisurely pace. As we neared a high gated turnstile, the group soon disappeared and then it was just Hubby, Zack and me.
It was lovely! Having just driven through Bowness centre where many people were milling about the pier as we passed it on our way south, it was nice to have all that unadulterated open space to ourselves. Unseen but heard were woodland birds singing, a cockerel and some other larger bird calling – and then a buzzard made its appearance high in the sky searching and circling around for dinner. At ground level, the only sound was of us trekking through the variously leaf-strewn footpaths of sere brown, or choosing our footsteps carefully as we squelched through muddy soggy ground. I took three videos as we walked because I really wanted to record these natural sounds of the countryside, precious for the absence of any unwanted noises of civilisation.
Our walk proper began when we went through a different turnstile from the group. After that, we neither saw nor heard anyone else during the rest of our trek. The path we took was a circular one which wended through some wetland full of mossy growth, a protected uphill footpath lined with dry leaves the colour of Autumn, a marshy area by a small pond where it behooved us to move off the path and onto comparatively easy branch-and-twig-covered knolls where leafless trees stuck out spiny branches that poked and probed where they had no business to be, and then it was out again through another turnstile and onto grassland, where fat woolly sheep fed contentedly on fertile grassland and ignored us as we passed.
Green Hill used to be rough fell land, but was transformed in 1997 with the planting of native woodland species. It is a 13-hectare site of upland oakwood which also provides conditions conducive to naturally regenerated seedlings to grow. Green Hill is not exactly the most spectacular of Lakeland’s marvellous scenery; instead, its innate charm lies in the fact that one can so easily escape the hustle and bustle of popular nearby towns and villages to a space where one can immerse oneself in peaceful tranquillity, where Nature, as it would seem, continues to move and grow apace within its own unwavering God-given agenda.
Blenheim Lodge . . . panoramic Lake views, peace and tranquillity, nestled against acres of beautiful fields and woodlands, in the heart of the English Lake District National Park.’
Visit our website: http://www.blenheim-lodge.com
Email: enquiries@blenheim-lodge.com
Telephone: 015394 43440
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