A little dash of Autumn
The start of this summer has been a wash out - quite literally. Up in the North of England, we have had thunder storms, hail stones and persistent winds. It has, of course, left a lot of us grumbling about the weather, climate change and how we would all love to go abroad to seek some sun. I even recall having my wood burner ablaze on June 1st.
It has been rather frustrating, all my early summer plans of wild camping, late night swims in the waterfalls and picnics by the river have been put on pause. As I am a southerner, I often find myself considering moving back down south for the warm weather - yet, I soon remember how I would hate being so far away from the Lake District and Scotland. Plus, good weather does often bring swarms of people - something I am finding I have less patience for as I near 30. It does get rather frustrating, after such a long winter, to still feel the clutches of the wintery weather trying to prevent the summer sun from blessing us. So, yes I have grumbled internally and externally about the weather, more often than I needed to. That was until, I experienced a dash of cosy Autumn yesterday.
I got up early yesterday morning, conscious of the looming grey clouds, I dressed in my rainy gear for my morning walk. This time, I went accompanied my neighbour to some local moors. We took the dogs, Jasmine and Tiny, to their usual walking spot. I had previously been told about the historical sites that can been found on these moors. Whilst they remain fairly unknown to most, only a few locals have spent time on the moors, researching parish documents to investigate what happened on these moors thousands of years ago. We trundled off in the truck, the weather was windy, the rain was yet to arrive.
As we reached the gate towards to moors, I was informed that there was a healthy Adder population living in the stone wall opposite, they often bask in the sun on the grass - no worries about that happening at the moment. We wondered onto a track, that one would assume was made from the farmer. When looking closely, you could see it was compact with old stones, making an old wagon way. This road was used thousands of years ago, accompanying it is the remains of roadside old inn. The stone walls are still there to see, it would have been a stop off point for the farmers who were taken their cattle to Newcastle. There are rumours of an 18th Century murder occurring at the pub, alongside suspicions of the trees being cursed. I was reminded not to take any wood from that area, as the curse would follow me home.
As we carried along the old wagon way, the rain started to drop on us, the winds picked up and it felt very atmospheric. We went off the path and wondered towards another ruin, this time of an old farmhouse. We sat on the remains and wondered what it would have been like for the family that lived there. By the time we walked towards the last remaining section of a Roman Road, that was now covered in heather, we were now covered with summer rain drops. Instead of hurrying back to the car, we carried on the tour of the moorlands. It made me realise, we so often rush away from the rain, it stops us from enjoying it. I knew I would be getting home to a hot shower, so what was the issue really?
When we finally made it back to the truck, we decided to go for a coffee in the local cafe. This little cafe is tucked away in the woods, with a resident peacock and very old pup to welcome you. We settled down at the table near the window, the rain hitting the glass with some ferocity now. As I sat there, my oat latte warming my hands, I realised that this is a slice of Autumn that I often romanticised about. My neighbour has lived many lives, so hearing about his time playing music, shaking Mick Jaggers hand and scouting for other musicians down in Dorset, I felt unbelievably content, cosy and happy. In that moment, I did not need the summer sun. In fact, as the cafe filled up with more soaked hikers, I was transported into the future season of Autumn.