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BB2020
: Letting in Water
Thursday
18th June 2020
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I
looked to the sky
Where an
elephant's eye
Was looking
at me
From a bubblegum tree
And
all that I knew
The hole
in my shoe
Was letting in
water
(letting
in water)
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I
thought I would be able to get away with
it. Or with them to be more accurate.
However, I did think it would probably be
their last outing. The soles were
coming adrift somewhat.
We
had each driven to Troutbeck with the intention
that the five of us would have a socially
distanced stroll up the valley. I
came via the back road, which provided an
atmospheric panoramic view of the southern
Lakeland fells.
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It
was Terry's first time out since he injured
himself digging for victory.
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The
Limefit Holiday Park was eerily silent as
we made our way through then up the east
side of the beck. Only a solitary
Herdwick was to be seen. A rather
decent looking mountain bike was propped
against a wall where, judging by the intense
rust of the chain, it had stood for a long
time.
Despite
the recent heavy rain, the ground was so
dry from the weeks of drought that very
little evidence remained. Just the
odd puddle and the occasional rill. With
a tiny bit of care, the hole in my shoe
wouldn't be letting in water (letting
in water).
At
the second footbridge we crossed over and
walked through the field to the Roman Road.
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I
walked through a field
That
just wasn't real
Where a
hundred tin soldiers
Would
shoot at my shoulder
And
all that I knew
The hole
in my shoe
Was letting in
water
(letting
in water)
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There
were no soldiers, Roman or otherwise, and
the hole in my shoe wasn't letting in water
(letting.etcetera). It had let in
some stones (letting in stones) which
was a bit of a nuisance.
Should
we return down the valley or did we have
time for The Tongue before the rain arrived?
We decided to risk it. It was
our first opportunity to climb a Wainwright
since Lockdown and the opportunity for Stephen
to bag his first Wainwright.
The
ascent from the north is gentle and it is
a fine viewpoint. The descent, on
the other hand, is somewhat steeper. Stan,
in true Stan fashion, decided that the only
way to reach the valley floor was to run
so off he set. Age must be catching
up with him or he was taking it easy as
up with him I was able to catch!
The
others had more sense but it wasn't long
before they joined us for our socially distanced
lunch stop.
As
we made our way back down the valley, the
sole of my shoe was coming adrift and flapping
so much it nearly tripped me up.
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I
started to fall
And suddenly
woke
And the dew on the grass
It
stuck to my coat
And all
that I knew
The hole in my
shoe
Was letting in water
(letting
in water)
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And
yes, every time there was a damp patch of
grass, it was letting in water (letting
in... yes, yes, yes)!
Somehow
the return along Ing Lane seemed much longer
than the outward trek. Fortunately there
was no rain (though it had poured down at
home). Tony was hoping that the badger
he had seen there on BB0616
would make an appearance so he could capture
it with his new old camera. No such
luck.
He
did manage to take the picture of the hole
in my shoe, though.
What
was it doing? Altogether now......!
Don,
Thursday 18th June 2020
Hole
in My Shoe (letting in water)
by
Traffic, 1967
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