Ah, yes, Martha has always been a bit nervous about the weather since the time when she got lost in a peasouper while driving from Birmingham to Stratford on Avon. She stopped to ask the way and they obviously misheard what she said because she ended up in Stafford which is about 40 miles in the wrong direction. Not that you can’t do that today as well. You hear of people placing absolute trust in a satnav. What’s the matter with a good old fashioned map, I ask!
Me, a technophobe…… never!
A few years back I climbed Screel Hill with a good friend and neighbour who was taking a group of recalcitrant teens on a character strengthening experience. They moaned all the way; expressing their total disdain of the trek in the most foul language imaginable.
As we descended, the cloud came down and we quickly lost our route over thick sphagnum moss that was a real pain to cross. Even the satnav was of little help, but trusty smithy had his map with him and correctly identified our rough position. Even so we ended up a long way from the minibus, and with no phone signal, one of the experienced hill walkers was despatched to find the ‘bus.
I spent several days swearing like a teenager until I got it out of my system.
This is a less familiar viewpoint of our little harbour on the Dee Estuary with the ruins of McClellan’s Castle standing sentinel over the cottages and old grain warehouse. The town’s name is pronounced Ker-coo-bree.
The evidence of our relationship with trees is everywhere to be seen, especially in an Indian village where they act as a focal point, a place to meet, or to shelter, but more than that, their spirit energises the place……