Walking to Keswick

OH. CRIKEY. A bridge. A bridge over water. This is my number one fear of all fears, more so even than snakes. Doesn't matter that this bridge was maybe 10 feet high and 15 feet long, over a river at most two feet deep. Oh, gawd! No no no, please not this!!! My legs started clattering. [I get so ANNOYED with myself -- such a stupid, inexplicable, illogical fear, but yet so real to me.] One step at a time, worse if I look down. (dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb) Am I across yet? Is it over? Don't look down, then, Silly Wench! Pick up camera, point straight out, see beautiful photo op, shoot!! Meanwhile, keep the feet moving, and breathe! And safely across, a few yards beyond? Here. This. I'm glad I made it. Here is where Klaus found me the 'whirlygigs' [seeds] from the tree that Holly 'splained me is a maple. Worth the trauma. Another river view. In Phoenix, there is rarely such a thing as water IN the rivers. What a heavenly, natural, normal, healing yet still SHOCKING sight. Water. In a river. Wow. I had to travel all the way to England for it! And stone! -- But you knew that was coming! This is a drystone wall, again, but it's been built with mortar. And nearby, a 'kissing gate', but my photo didn't turn out at all! Sad. You push open the swing mechanism and pass into one side of the rectangular, fenced area. Then you have to close the mechanism again in order to pass out the other side. Prevents animal escapees. One person on one side, though, can lean over and steal a kiss from the individual waiting on the other side. I tried to steal a Luke kiss but was soundly rebuffed. Shucks. And then? A one-mile walk through fields that look like this [& yes, that is Keswick off in the distance] -- white sheep with an occasional black marking, and (separately), younger, black sheep that will ultimately turn white (Klaus said -- I admit to wondering about that). They aren't branded but rather spray painted in bright tags of color. And cattle, too, in yet another pasture, most of them laying down for an afternoon snooze, chewing with their eyes closed, blissed out! Pretty and clean animals, all. A mile walk that feels like a hop, skip and jump because the scenery is so distractingly luscious. Blooms, everywhere. I need to do a post strictly for 'blooms', I do. Why bend over when you have a sheep-crazed tourist to feed you hands full of the fresh green stuff just beyond the fence? [Toni collected lots of sheeps' wool off the barbs on the fence, too, yes she did, now residing in a glassine envelope in my travel journal.] [And, by the way, Toni did not once, ever, require the use of the lovely macintosh she toted about everywhere. I finally left it in the boot of the car and looped a small umbrella about my wrist - living dangerously!] My helper, Luke. Wee Lad, Luke, was beside himself. Sheep? Who cares about sheep, man! "An Aeroplane! An Aeroplane!" Indeed! My bros, and Dave, tell me (now) that this is a C-31 (or was it a C-130) transport plane, and that it's unusual for such to fly this low. I knew because of Klaus' attentiveness that pictures would du rigeur. (I also knew it might be 'something' and my bros would kill me if I let the photo op pass.] Very distinct engine growl, as yummy as a Harley engine snarl! Have I said 'green' lately? GREEN. Green green green. And green. Back near our B&B, we found this lodge, and HERE is where I had fish & chips. After all that yammering on the subject before I left (also while I was there, I confess), do you think I was smart enough to take a photo before diving in? Eesh. But BLIMEY was it ever good!! I ate it ALL, and it was a whole fish, fileted and battered and fried, and made-on-the-spot chips, perfectly salted and malt vinegar'd. However, I gave the mushy peas to My Lovely Mother - can't stand the thangs. My bros have yet to forgive us for coming home with no cans of mushy peas for them amid our assorted bags. True story.