Fields of Gold

We have been away.  First a week in my ancestral valley: Kentmere, which was once in Westmorland and is now Cumbria.  My great great grandparents farmed at Kentmere Hall, presumably as tenants, and are buried in the churchyard in the valley.  Our walks took us past the farmstead with its distinctive peel tower, now a ruin.

All through the valley, buttercups sprinkled the hay-meadows with gold.  Our romantic theories on the reasons for this were scotched by my older sister, a farmer herself, who confirmed that it was the year of the buttercup, which prefers land without nitrates.   Heavy rains last year will have washed these out of the soil.

 

We were with a walking party, several of them much fitter than we are.  We stayed at this wonderful property, Pout Howe, from which the views of the high tops which make up the Kentmere Round were astounding. 

 

This quaint set of outbuildings was once the earth closet and wash house for the property. 

We chose to walk only half of the famous round, since we had covered the Ill Bell section last summer, from Troutbeck.  So we ascended to Kentmere Pike and then came down the Nan Bield Pass.  This was a walk involving some rock scrambling and certainly offered dramatic views of Haweswater and Small Water, the tarn.  We were surprised to see a woman walking the top section wearing open-toed sandals, and another carrying a lapdog in a papoose.