Archive for the ‘Walking’ Category

Hello Again!

 I have decided to enter this months Judith Heartsong’s friendly ‘Artsy Entry’ Competition again. I so enjoyed visiting all the other entries last month!

I wrote this last year and have since tweaked it so that it falls in to line with the competition requirements.

We had to create an entry using some or all of the words on Judith’s list.

I have used some of the words she provided and have dotted them about my essay for you to find highlighted in blue.

I hope you enjoy the walk as you look for the words on loan from Judith’s list.  It is one I take regularly all year round with Nature’s various changes to distract me en-route.

Please note I have copywright on all of my entries so please do not copy or save them to your computer.  Thank You.




                                  An Autumn Walk  

                                            by Jeanie Kirkby ©  2006-10-07


I see the warmth of summer escaping from the land like a ground oozing wraith.

In the middle distance the lake wears an atmospheric cloud inversion.

Autumn has stepped into the landscape.  With a sweep of her cooling hands, she paints the leaves with copper and gold tints.

Flowers shudder in her presence, maraca shaking their seed pods at her feet.

Berries and nuts ripen too, tossing their sun roasted bodies to the ground in their haste to withdraw from the coming winter.

These ‘tumbling’s’ which I find myself crunching underfoot, are as though a jar of  pebble-like winter toffees has been spilled and scattered around for all those sleepy hollow creatures to devour; through the lean dark days to come.

Squirrels scamper up their larch ladders, like circus clowns on a tightrope, harvesting cones to add them to their cache of nuts for those rare bleak short days when wakening hungrily from their hibernating torpor.

The swallows have left as a squadron, navigating the European landfalls to their African hunting ground; with its beckoning sun and plentiful flies on the wing.  Their summer holiday retreats are still stuck to the eaves of roofs and barns, abandoned for another year.

Skeins of Greylag geese begin to arrive from the Arctic regions to our warmer climes.  Airborne in the high stratus thermals for so long their legs have become strangers to them as they land on the marshes. They tumble forward with an undignified nosedive along the margins of the lake.

The wind enters this scene fitfully.

Now and then it tests the fallen leaves for their flap ability; skirmishing with them along the paths and under the trees.    

Small whirlwinds suck the leaves from the forest floor spiralling them lightly aloft.  Then, just as suddenly, released of this new mode of travel, they skitter like a covey of pheasants at the sound of the hunters gun, change tack again, then glide like goose feathers to the ground.



A window opens up down through my woodland vantage point, showing more of the lake in the distance.

The mist has begun to shift and rise revealing more in its translucency as the day moves on.

I can see that the lake hasn’t escaped from the testing parries of the wind. 

Small white horses can be seen rearing southwards, away from the prevailing autumn wind whooping down off the high northern fells which are receding to a vanishing point somewhere beyond Grasmere.



A startling crack of laboured feather like flapping draws my eyes to a pheasant whose feathers camouflaged him so well on the forest floor.   Looking up through the trees, a watery sun flickers leaf and branch shadows down through the opaque shafts of light to the golden, crunchy, sloughing carpet beneath.

Here and there amongst the damp detritus of past storms are rotting limbs colonised by mosses which compete with one another so that they almost create their own isomorphism’s. All living in their own chosen microcosm; sharing the nutrients from the fallen skeletons of previous year’s storms.

These limbs  are wrapped about, as if for protection, by looping barbed wire-like tendrils of brambles, whilst sentry like nettles ward off my reaching fruit picking fingers.

The trees are not alone in their transformed autumnal attire.

Poking out from under each genus of woodland tree is fungi native only to that species and the nutrients which it releases. 

Rust, tan, red, green, blues, blacks, red spotted with white fungi, are all vying for attention as I pass by. Umbrella shapes, phallic, fluted and frilled. There are even some who turn their rims up to show their gill like undersides; as though stood on the same warm air grid as Marilyn Munro in her famous floating dress scene.


They slide slowly into the light, like snails, through previous years of wet mulched leaves, revealing all in their moment of glory; whilst offering their spores to the damp air.


In the surrounding suburban gardens, which I pass on my outward and return journey, nasturtiums are one of the last splashes of vivid colour to offer their faces and leaves to the autumnal shivers.   Their long saucer shaped leaf stalks trembling in the wind like the many plates balanced on top of the tall canes of performing jugglers.



Back home, and in the warmth, I look out my window to a spangled shimmer of sun bright water, which breaks the mirrored reflections of the plants and trees protecting our pond from the worst of the elements. Water lily’s slip slithery, skeletal and translucent rotting leaves lower into the dark water, joining the sluggish fish lurking closer to what’s left of the summer’s warmth in the depths.

The rain arrives washing the laurel and rhododendron leaves to a glossy wet slicked greenness. The uncut grass of the lawn has had a last spurt of growth; Foxing the gardener who has put his lawn mower away until next spring.


Its Harvest Festival time and there is much to rejoice in Nature.


Have a lovely day.

Jeanie xx



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Autumn is sneaking in…

Since I have another journal over on AOL I find I am kept busy over there from time to time as I have more readers.
So forgive me if I copy and paste and then talk of something a bit out of date.  Its easier for me to copy and paste rather than try to re-write everything all over again.
So here are mutterings below for you to read and pass the time.   I hope you enjoy.

Good Morning..

We all seem to be crying out for summer and its heat again now that Autumn is here.

Gas fires are turning on, extra layers are being worn to bed and in my case the central heating is on already.  It’s amazing how quickly we all get used to the heat of summer and miss it when it disappears. The cold fair nips at my outer layers of fat these days and tightens it up dreadfully..lol!  It can be quite painful when fat solidifies on a ‘human bean’.  hahahaha!

I have been getting my nose into a few good books this last week and enjoyed the transportation to another world. Tha’s been taking up a bit of my computer time too.

And I also had a little play with the planter that Samantha gave me.  I turned it into a miniature ‘Rock Garden’.  See photo… 


All last week, and the week before, Bryan got stuck into digging and overhauling ours and our neighbours garden.  He is making a big difference out there.

Unfortunately, last Friday morning  he showed me a bite which he had been scratching all night and when I saw it I thought..’We can’t leave that over the weekend’ so we popped off to the doctors after getting and emergency appointment where he was given some antibiotics and steroid cream.  I have seen one of these bites before and they can eat into an ulcer if you leave them too long.  Samantha our daughter had one a couple of years ago.  She left it over the weekend and it had got a grip on her flesh and ate a deep hole before she knew it.

In both cases we have no idea what caused it.  Bryan remembers hitting an ants nest and whacking his trouser legs to stop them biting so we presume it was one of those with an infectious mouth.   Yuck!

I don’t go in the garden these days as I inevitably get ticks, brought in no doubt by the deer.  Bryan has yet to get them and he is always in the woodland and garden.  Not that I wish them on him but I just don’t understand why they jump on me!  Maybe they like blood that has had chemo and radiotherapy…maybe I glow in the sunlight..who knows..but they jump and shout Geronimo and aim for Jeanie all the time! …lol!

As I mentioned in my previous entry I have been having problems with signal and connections on my laptop.  I gave up making entries most of last week and just made little sorties in and out of folks journals instead.  My computer kept disconnecting me in the middle of my writing.

I have been trying to update my mainframe computer since I have hardly used it this summer.  Its cold down in the cellar, where it sits, without the heating on.  Now that its back on elsewhere I will be back down there and get on with my writing soon.

I can write my stories much better down there as I have no distraction or awareness of time passing by.  Up here in the kitchen I get distracted by the garden and the changing lights and weather on it.

I took a little ‘tootle’ around the lanes behind our houses the other day..the results are in the album above.  At one part on the walk I stopped to take a picture unaware that there was a chap behind me until he let out an ‘Oops!’.  I never heard a sound…I know I should wear my hearing aid more.  But the noises that it gives you back again arrive like a crescendo of drumrolls made by a mad orchestral tympanist who has forgotten that there are gentle little symbols too.

I won’t be around much tomorrow as I am going to a little job that I said I would take up again for my friend Cally.  Her daughter has just had a new baby two weeks ago and I said I would go and ‘move the dust around for her’.  This is an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with peace and quiet and views that go clear across to the Pennine Chain.  It is so pastoral and a place that we would all aspire to owning.  The views are breathtaking.

Meanwhile…Bryan’s obviously missing not being out in the garden…he keeps interrupting me with questions about which mail shots that have been lying around need chucking out.  I’ll get no peace until I go see to him.  Lol!

Take care and stay well.

Quote of the day…

The best kind of friend is the one you could sit on a porch, swing with, never saying a word and then walk away feeling like that was the best conversation you’ve ever had.

Bryan and I do that a lot…lol!


Take care……


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A walk in the sunshine


I chose to sit and watch these little ‘ducky duddles’ or goosey..goosey..ganders (I stand corrected Jan…lol!) whilst I had my picnic lunch yesterday but.. they gave me no peace.. so they ‘saw me off the premises’ just because I was loath to share my fresh salmon mayo’ and dill ‘sarnies’* with them.  Lol!        


Look at them…pretending I’m not here…lol!


I ended up picnicking on my stone bench (above) whilst watching the sheep sleep in the shade of a tree, and watching the more energetic walkers climb the hill to the vantage point called Post Knott. This overlooks the whole of the lake and offers views, on clear days, of the vista clear down to Morcambe Bay thirty miles away.  I could do that once, and will do so again one day too.  The chemo’ has played havoc with the muscles in my legs and elsewhere. I get so sore and stiff if I sit just for a short while and find hill walking a wee bit painful. I take paracetamol now before I set off on any reasonable trundle I care to call a walk.    So that sorts that out! Lol!

It’s nice to sit below the Tor and watch others climb and use their energy instead of me.   I have taken many a photo in that direction, whilst I have rested, and the view always has a few distant bodies perched on the top admiring the spectacle for a while.  I sit relieved some days, thinking that I don’t have to do it …lol!

I have shrunk this one so I’m afraid you need to look closely for the people on the top.

I have also placed a few at normalsize in my album above, so you might want to peek in there if you have time to browse.

The marsh in front of my picnic bench hides wild fowl and wagtails amongst other birds. Much too well camouflaged to see from where I sit.  I sat and watch the swallows diving and swooping for insects on the wing.  They are too swift to catch on my camera but I did spot some on a telegraph wire further on as I got up to carry on my walk.


I wish I could translate the silence, of a sort, that lends background ‘music’to the scenes I see and sit amongst.  Especially when sitting on ‘my bench’.  Distant bleats of this years late lambs calling for their mother’s who are hiding from the sun in the shade, are heard intermittently. The shreek and high pitched whistle of the swallow can be heard as they swoop past. The caws of a murder of crows flying from distant trees and passing overhead. I can hear the crow of the cockerel I passed by at the little tarn I showed you below, in the distance.  His little ‘harem’ of hens were hiding in the shade of the trees behind the hen huts to stay cool.  He strutted about in the blazing sun looking quite resplendent with his plumed tail held high.



Harebells, thistles, buttercups and the ‘odd foxglove still standing’ were balm to my eyes as I passed them by.  I so love looking out for different hedgerow, and field, wildflowers.  I noticed the brambles are beginning to ripen too…huh!   A miracle after all the rain we have had this summer.

There was a breeze yesterday, much like today, that leant a rustle to the grasses and the leaves in the trees around me.  The undersides of the grasses and leaves shone silvery which from a distance made them glisten as though they had been touched by the silver of the moon.

Just before returning home I took a walk up to Biskey Howe which is another vantage point just behind our home. The views from there are stunning too.  See below and in my album.

I had it all to myself for a little while and then some foreign tourists appeared, excited by the view.  Excitement and amazement need no language translation.  Their utterances are universal and understood.

A lovely walk…and one I hope to repeat soon.

I was a bit wary, since my last walk with Bryan and the episode of the young man, if you remember that entry.  But…I refused to dwell on the what ifs and set off to enjoy myself.

I’m glad I did.

I hope you have enjoyed ‘walking’ with me too?

My Quote for the Day is below… 

We cannot change our past. We can not change the fact that people act in a certain way. We can not change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.

— Charles Swind



Bye for now…have a lovely day.

Jeanie   xxxx




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Saturday In the Lakes

Good Day.
This is my very first entry to using MSN wblogs.  I have yet to find out how to navigate and use this space but hope that soon I will be able to update my entries with tags, music and photos of interest.  Plus a bit of written information on Day to Day life here in Lakeland.  There will also be the odd poem or two from time to time and Quotes of interest too.
I will be back once I have more entries of interest.
Bye for now.         And…..here goes nothing…Lol! 

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