Searching for bluebells in May has now become an annual event. This year, we set off on a hot Sunday to walk up to Crow Nest. On the way up, we stopped often to examine tree blossom.
We took the longer but less steep, windy path and noticed shale at the edges where the route dropped significantly below the line of tree roots, providing further proof of its age. At the top, we admired the greenery.
Although the bluebells were not quite in profusion, it still created a pretty scene.
The path was mainly dry but I managed to get my foot stuck in an unexpected patch of deep mud, causing a small panic attack. I sat on a fallen trunk to recover and wipe mud off my best walking sandals. A woman passed us with a cheery “hello”. Soon after, Phil said he felt funny. I suggested he was overheated and we stopped again by the small stream.
We relaxed, sipping water, and listening to the tinkling brook as birds flitted amongst the treetops, with leaves rustling in a gentle breeze.
Mentally transported, I failed to notice the same woman appear behind us, until she made me jump by saying “I didn’t want to make you jump”. She asked the way back to town and we offered to escort her.
We chose the lower path into the quarry, which she agreed was stunning, albeit devoid of water following the recent dry spell. We returned to civilisation via Wood Top Road and past the stoneyard.
It turned out she had come on a weekend visit from Gloucestershire, planning to stay with a friend but had got the dates wrong and had booked into a B&B, determined to enjoy the area. On reaching town, I advised her on which cafes would still be open so she could get a coffee before she collected her luggage and caught a train home. We said goodbye and availed ourselves of a bag of chips followed by a few pints in the busy centre.
More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtivkgnk64ssAfAZ4_zQ