Memory and sacred places
By Parson Thru
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Nineteen eighty-one, it was
We’d borrowed a tent from Leeming
Some foul-weather gear
And those bloody boots
I remember running down the scree
Down the flank of Eel Crag
I’ve never done it since:
Bloody lunacy
But we were young
I thought I’d see that slope today
But, of course, it’s different
When you’re on the spot
Makes a fool of memory
I always underestimate
And the light won't last
It’s two summits further
Over Sail, Sand Hill
Beyond the Hause
Eel Crag, Whinlatter
Then Grasmoor End
The weather must have closed in
Yes. I remember now
The sheepfold
Eating sandwiches
Wet through
That’s why we took our chances
On the scree
We didn’t know about the cliffs
I passed the pub
The Jennings one
Where we ate our steak
Or was it Newlands?
In that car of yours
The Renault
16?
Or had you bought the sporty one?
The little blue thing
Yes
That was it
I’m surprised we got the gear in
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Comments
we didn't know about the
we didn't know about the cliffs. yeh. that stands out, because when you're young (not that I've ever been young) you're indestructable, or think you are- which is much the same thing).
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I could relate to your words
I could relate to your words in this poem. It's never a good idea to go back to old haunts because when you see the changes it's like breaking the dream and what you remember looses some of its sparkle.
I did once visit the street where my very first house was, it was sad because they'd turned most of the terrace into a carpark. All the work my dad did on the house was now all gone and I found it quite devastating to think about.
Anyway, I bet you have fond memories to look back on, and that's what counts.
Jenny.
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It sounds a lovely haunt to
It sounds a lovely haunt to revisit anyway, weather good or bad ( though beware of cliffs when the weather is bad!)
I remember in Snowdonia my youngest son (who had Asperghers) running on some rocks with glee and his slightly older brother being more frantic than us, and then the younger one screeching as he nearly fell - he was OK, but a bit more cautious afterwards to everyone's relief. Also have memories when I was a teenager of being with a crowd who ran down a scree slope (how much danger is there of twisting an ankle?), but I was with a very nervous girl, and the descent took us ages. Today we've been near here on a very muddy, squelchy little walk, and it ended in drizzle — but we came back refreshed! Rhiannon
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I've just been reading up a
I've just been reading up a bit about scree slopes - my memories were of the Fox's path on Cader Idris - there were all sorts of warning about danger to limbs and also of damage to the environment by causing mini avalanches I think! Rh
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I like how your memories
I like how your memories unfold, like turns in a path
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Very atmospheric recollections. Funny how things never
seem the same when you re-visit them. Normally a little disappointing.I tried walking one of Wainwright's easy ones. Easy? I dread to try the hard ones. I remember we left Newbury early and drove up to the lakes in one day. Slept in a the carpark somewhere.
Ullswater is my favourite lake, even though the midges got me. I even wrote a poem about it. (Must dig it out)
found it it's a Haiku (I'd forgotten it)
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I just posted it but it's I'll put it here also cheers
Ullswater:
dark and brooding fells
mirrored on tranquil waters
blessed by Wainwright’s boots
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