Or The Point of Three, AM and PM and Millie’s Best Day of the Week…
The final day of what has been an absolutely magical week.
Yes the weather and the walking have been amazing but what has really made it special is having Millie with us and sharing her enjoyment… or not, as the case may be.
And us being three together…
Our life is truly divided into AM, before Millie and PM, after she arrived…
Last night we saw a man heading up to Helvellyn obviously to go wild camping under the stars. Much as I would love to be in the wilderness like that, not sharing it with Darrell or Millie would make the experience a totally sad and pointless one.
We start our rest day with a long lie. The sun streams in and eventually even with all windows and flaps open we are driven outside because of the heat. We retreat to the shade of the awning and Darrell cooks breakfast on the cadac. Millie lies close, revelling in the smell of frying bacon.
We eat slowly and savour every moment.
We then don’t don walking boots, mess with maps or heft rucksacks and Millie is ecstatic. She potters about the pitch, hunts bugs in the grass, plays with her ball and chews sticks. She rolls on her back with all her teeth showing, squeaks like a cat and wags her tail and then later when the full pleasure of a rest day has sunk in even she has to admit that a slow toddle into Glenridding might be rather nice.
But before we can summon up the energy to move I am proved right when I said such a spell of good weather couldn’t last much longer, as the sky darkens, thunder rumbles and the heavens open. We don’t care as we just move inside reflecting yet again how very lucky we have been.
And later on when the rain stops we do take that slow, very slow toddle into Glenridding.
And a very, very slow toddle back until we see the weather coming down the valley, at which point we pick up the dog, pick up the pace and make it back to the camper just before the deluge.
The storm passes leaving a perfect evening in its wake. We walk down to the beach. The lake is like glass and mirrors the sky. Two swans drift by and we see a lone swimmer. Church bells and the call of a cuckoo float across the water.
We have to carry Millie back part of the way as a farm dog begins to follow us. She gazes over my shoulder longingly until he disappears from sight.
The night is loud with the hooting of owls…