Fall

It was hotter than ever this morning, not a breath of wind, and after we’d packed everything into the car and Mum’d brushed out the caravan we bid our field goodbye and left.

Despite Mum’s tense-faced anxiety, we all insisted that we should take the Howgate Rigg route home. We turned off outside Thornscar and began the crawl upwards: far below and behind us, green and tree-filled Calverdale lay spread out in the sun, a sharp contrast to the bleakness of the moors all around.

Fosshag Bank and Black Mea rose menacingly up on either side of us. The road wound precariously along the edge of the hillside, a wooden fence all that separated us from a deep plunge into a steep-sided gulley. But we came upon the crest of the hill sooner than we’d expected and quickly dropped into Riggdale. Gill Cave Fell was dark and flat-topped on the horizon.

Further along we stopped to see isolated Foxbergh Falls, a 100-ft waterfall spilling over the edge of a limestone cove, the white torrent falling lazily into dark green waters and had dinner beside the Cluder, which is called Hessleton Beck at this infant stage.

We got back to Egley at 2.30.

Two letters awaited me, one from Susie, the other a belated birthday card from Pete. I also got a bank statement telling me I’m £109 overdrawn, which is £32 more than I thought I was.

The rest of the day has been an anti-climax. I don’t feel very well and I fell asleep on my bed. I didn’t wake up until everyone else was coming to bed.