Old Ground - New Ways
07th February 2016
7th Feb 16
Old ground, new ways.
The weather has not been good again as another storm (Imogen) thunders across the west coast, bringing with it high winds and more rain.
This has meant the conditions, for next few days, have not been conducive to traversing the high Fells. Therefore, my plans involved crossing some of the lower, more humble and also more familiar landscapes. Due to the conditions I intended to head to places I have been many times before, and to hills and valleys that offered no technical difficulty beyond some basic navigation. All I needed was appropriate items in my rucksack to keep me warm and dry, and the enthusiasm to explore.
My explorations initially took me over high ground at the southern end of the Coniston fells, then around Torver Common, returning along the western side of the lake and, finally, on a windy journey over Silver How and into the boggy depths of Blindtarn Moss.
Despite how many times I walk these places I always find something new to see. On my latest outings this was especially the case as I intended to not follow any established paths, and certainly none shown on a map. In fact I planned to follow a course that kept me out of the worst of the wind and rain, using the shape of the terrain to guide me.
This meant I had to assess the landscape, and especially when there was potentially hazardous crags and buttresses to be avoided. I had to look at this landscape again, as despite my regular visits I was approaching it differently, with no eye to the map, just my knowledge of the area, my keenness to avoid the worst of the atrocious weather and a desire to understand the land better.
Marcel Proust challenges the fashion driven urge to seek new places and experiences, by suggesting that beauty and enlightenment can be found in the familiar. However, we have to be prepared to look at the world differently, by casting off pre-conditioned views and perspectives and to look again free from learnt values. The weather conditions prompted me to look at the landscape in a different way.
Therefore, despite the weather (or maybe because of) my recent expeditions (though humble in aim and challenge) allowed me to find new perspectives of a well known landscape (or so I thought).
I struggled across wet, slippery slopes, avoiding the worst of the bog, precipitous and slimy outcrops whilst being pushed and pulled by the wind. However, this unplanned ramble meant I also found paths lost to cartographers. Routes that wound across the hills, crossing little streams and tarns, whilst passing the skeletal remains of stone buildings. These structures, the wall projecting like ribs, are parshaly hideen bybracken and Juniper bushes. tHese are dwelling that would have been in usehundreds of years ago, but now in disrepair, and like their occupants not only gone but forgotten.
You cannot help but wonder what the day to day lives of these people looked like. The remoteness, the lack of basic comforts such as warmth and light. As I stood, my back set against the howling wind and rain, I wondered why anyone would chose such a harsh and wild location like this to live. Hidden in amongst the folds of the hills, far from any village and exposed to the harshest of elements (?)
My understanding soon changed, as after allowing noises of the hillside and the impact of wildness of the terrain penetrate my consciousness, the answer soon became clear - this place was not randomly chosen. This location was home as it offered security and fresh water, it was an area that was protected by the mountain and gave space for animals to graze, whilst offering relatively secluded location.
Furthermore, as I looked at surrounding hills, with their coving of buttresses and crags and allowed myself to be absorbed by the character of the location, I detected the power of the landscape. The wind echoing around amphitheatre of crags, the continual thunder of falling water as it poured into every wrinkle and crevice, gathering volume and pace, before crashing down to the valley floor, Here, in its it's micro environment, there was a sense of everything being instinctively natural and in its proper place.
I suspect I would have missed this most simple of understanding if I had not chosen to walk off the beaten path, as my unplanned route made me look again (and with extra scrutiny) at the familiar terrain around me.
"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands but seeing with new eyes".
Marcel Proust.
Old ground, new ways.
The weather has not been good again as another storm (Imogen) thunders across the west coast, bringing with it high winds and more rain.
This has meant the conditions, for next few days, have not been conducive to traversing the high Fells. Therefore, my plans involved crossing some of the lower, more humble and also more familiar landscapes. Due to the conditions I intended to head to places I have been many times before, and to hills and valleys that offered no technical difficulty beyond some basic navigation. All I needed was appropriate items in my rucksack to keep me warm and dry, and the enthusiasm to explore.
My explorations initially took me over high ground at the southern end of the Coniston fells, then around Torver Common, returning along the western side of the lake and, finally, on a windy journey over Silver How and into the boggy depths of Blindtarn Moss.
Despite how many times I walk these places I always find something new to see. On my latest outings this was especially the case as I intended to not follow any established paths, and certainly none shown on a map. In fact I planned to follow a course that kept me out of the worst of the wind and rain, using the shape of the terrain to guide me.
This meant I had to assess the landscape, and especially when there was potentially hazardous crags and buttresses to be avoided. I had to look at this landscape again, as despite my regular visits I was approaching it differently, with no eye to the map, just my knowledge of the area, my keenness to avoid the worst of the atrocious weather and a desire to understand the land better.
Marcel Proust challenges the fashion driven urge to seek new places and experiences, by suggesting that beauty and enlightenment can be found in the familiar. However, we have to be prepared to look at the world differently, by casting off pre-conditioned views and perspectives and to look again free from learnt values. The weather conditions prompted me to look at the landscape in a different way.
Therefore, despite the weather (or maybe because of) my recent expeditions (though humble in aim and challenge) allowed me to find new perspectives of a well known landscape (or so I thought).
I struggled across wet, slippery slopes, avoiding the worst of the bog, precipitous and slimy outcrops whilst being pushed and pulled by the wind. However, this unplanned ramble meant I also found paths lost to cartographers. Routes that wound across the hills, crossing little streams and tarns, whilst passing the skeletal remains of stone buildings. These structures, the wall projecting like ribs, are parshaly hideen bybracken and Juniper bushes. tHese are dwelling that would have been in usehundreds of years ago, but now in disrepair, and like their occupants not only gone but forgotten.
You cannot help but wonder what the day to day lives of these people looked like. The remoteness, the lack of basic comforts such as warmth and light. As I stood, my back set against the howling wind and rain, I wondered why anyone would chose such a harsh and wild location like this to live. Hidden in amongst the folds of the hills, far from any village and exposed to the harshest of elements (?)
My understanding soon changed, as after allowing noises of the hillside and the impact of wildness of the terrain penetrate my consciousness, the answer soon became clear - this place was not randomly chosen. This location was home as it offered security and fresh water, it was an area that was protected by the mountain and gave space for animals to graze, whilst offering relatively secluded location.
Furthermore, as I looked at surrounding hills, with their coving of buttresses and crags and allowed myself to be absorbed by the character of the location, I detected the power of the landscape. The wind echoing around amphitheatre of crags, the continual thunder of falling water as it poured into every wrinkle and crevice, gathering volume and pace, before crashing down to the valley floor, Here, in its it's micro environment, there was a sense of everything being instinctively natural and in its proper place.
I suspect I would have missed this most simple of understanding if I had not chosen to walk off the beaten path, as my unplanned route made me look again (and with extra scrutiny) at the familiar terrain around me.
"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands but seeing with new eyes".
Marcel Proust.