Lone tree on Longstone Moor
Three hours of sauntering this afternoon in lovely autumnal weather. I didn't even bother with my jacket. The only stops I made were to take photographs or to take a breath. Otherwise, I just kept plodding along. Down Black Harry Lane to Black Harry Gate and on to Longstone Edge.
It's an area that has known a lot of quarrying and mining both for lead and limestone. If you know how to look, the evidence is everywhere. By the way, I have no idea who Black Harry was but I wouldn't have wished to encounter him on a dark night in bygone days. What would he have done with my plastic debit card?
I skirted the edge of Black Plantation climbing up, up to Watersaw Rake and on to Longstone Moor. In the wide saucer-like valley beyond I could see Wardlow Mires where Frances and Stewart had their wedding reception three years ago. Before COVID, before Mad Brexit, before Johnson was disgraced, before Hapless Truss and Kwarteng and before Little Phoebe came to join us in a sheet carried gently by a stork.
I drove home via Stoney Middleton down in the valley. An information board claimed that that village's high street was once reputed to be the steepest high street in the British Isles. I guess they had never been to Staithes or Clovelly or Runswick Bay or several other coastal villages I could mention.
Back home after half past four ready to start preparing meatballs in a nice tomato sauce with red pepper, onions and mushrooms - served with wholewheat spaghetti. Shirley was heading out for a Women's Institute meeting so our evening meal had to be quite early.
And now I am popping down to the local to see Bert and to slake my thirst. See you later. I will add the photos then.
View to Wardlow Mires beyond a drystone wall
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/M8Lzpqk
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