The cloud is hanging low in the valleys as I leave the campsite. It is one of those still, silent Lakeland mornings where even the sheep are silenced by the muffling effect of the mist. Driving past Thirlmere, the water resembles a sheet of glass, the evergreens on the hillside reflecting perfectly in the Mill Pond flatness of the reservoir.
Continue reading “A walk up Seat Sandal”
