I arrived in this lovely lovely area of the UK late on a Sunday night; not exactly the time of day and/or week you want to do that (I learned that everything completely shuts down at an absurdly early hour and buses are sparse), but as travels have it, shit happens! I only got a glimpse of the beauty to come as the sun was going down while I was waiting for my third transfer in transportation of the day. I got a mini peek at the surrounding snow covered hill tops and could hardly contain myself.
So when I woke up the next morning, I filled up on a hearty breakfast and headed out for the mountains on foot and got my first up close and personal glance, I was literally jumping and dancing with joy! No matter which direction you walk, you are constantly surrounded by the different elements of nature: wood, stone, water, fire.. (although that luxury is only visible from the smoke coming out of country-house chimneys.) If ever there was a place to be and an appropriate time of year for letting your mind wander and be free, The Lake District in February is IT.
Every 100 or so feet, your surroundings change completely. The noises surrounding you are altered; however you are often comforted with the odd baaahhh from a nearby sheep, the furry creatures that freely roam the area chomping down the grass day and night; altitude indifferent. At first you hear only the squish squash of mud under your feet, and the sheep munching away at the still-grassy fields, then, you start to notice the soothing sound of the trickle of a steam. As you get higher, you get closer to the source of the stream and your ears are filled with the gushing of water coming from the waterfall that has water so clear, and so fresh, it’s truly unbelievable. For a good distance past the waterfall, everything is silent: I can hear only my heavy breathing from the steep climb and crunch crunch crunch of my footsteps on the vastly-appearing snow. When I stop 100m higher to take in the surrounding beauty once again, I hear the trickle of icicles melting off a giant boulder; everything just starting to heat up in the morning light. At the highest point, my ears are filled with the whipping of the wind, nipping at my face and forcing me to go back. But the view is just so spectacular, I don’t want to leave! I have this feeling of wanting to stay here forever, abandon what little life I have back home and become a nature guide!
Heading back down I take another trail and end up slightly lost. Thank goodness for the lovely people of Britain as I came upon a family who offered me juice and snacks and showed me on a map where I was to be going.
As I’m walking, and constantly taking in new sights, I can’t stop thinking to myself how beautiful this area is, how lucky I am to be here, how free and independent I feel to be doing this alone, and so incredibly filled with happiness that I don’t think words even exist to describe these feelings. I think of how I have to tell everyone of this place, show them pictures, but then stop and think to myself: it’s so wonderful, there aren’t words to explain the beauty, photos can’t even begin to do justice and exude the same sort of emotions. It won’t matter how much I rave about this place, you have to see it to believe it.
(Anonymous)
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