Making tracks

I think that one of the most attractive parts of our walk was after we had dropped down the steep hillside from the stile opposite the church on Chapel Lane.

We descended to a track which wound its way along the valley bottom. The noise from the main road was long behind us, semi-industrial Stocksbridge was out of sight and the air was quite balmy as we swung along in the dappled sunlight. Through the gaps in the trees we could see clear views down the valley and over to our right, glimpse the river which we would soon be crossing and the quiet country lane which would form the next short section of our route.

Not spectacular, but refreshingly peaceful and beautifully rural.

The Pack

Just over a week ago, I came here to meet a friend for lunch. It had been snowing the previous day, but had cleared just enough to make the journey look interesting without affecting my ability to travel.

This is my friend's local hostelry, and a very good one it is too. The Pack, as it is known locally, is in the village of Hathersage in the Hope Valley towards the north of Derbyshire. It is a beautiful area which is popular with walkers, but also attracts climbers who come to try their skills on the gritstone 'Edges' above the village. This is where the White and Dark Peaks collide.

Hathersage is probably most famous for its association with Little John, who is reputedly buried in the churchyard at St Michael's, but it also has connections with Jane Eyre. After visiting Hathersage in 1845, Charlotte Bronte selected it as the model of her village 'Norton' She also chose the local family name of Eyre for her heroine; and the roof from which Mrs Rochester jumped to her death, crowns the Elizabethan manor house, North Lees Hall.

The Pack itself is situated on one of the old trading tracks which connected Derbyshire to Sheffield and further afield. As such, it was a regular port of call for travellers, and for the Scottish Packmen, who sold their tweeds to local farmers. Hence the name.

If the Packmen were served food as tasty as ours, I would imagine they would trade in the area frequently.

Evidence of things unseen

Best laid plans and all that! Woke up this morning, pulled back the curtain and... Ooo-er! We've gone all white again! Quick, grab the camera!

So... This is not Old Trafford. - Interlude!

The table is two inches deep (sorry I still think in 'old money'), but the smaller birds will have been able to grab a mouthful from the feeders. And underneath is evidence of someone else who has been searching for food. My garden is criss crossed with tracks. Some of them belong to the local moggies, but a goodly proportion are fox; out on his nocturnal wanderings.

Interesting to follow them when there is clear evidence of passage. There doesn't seem to be a corner which they haven't visited; testament to a whole life and busy-ness in the garden, which is mainly beyond my experience.

And all the while, the signs of spring are coming.