I’ve taken the unilateral decision to rename the days of the week. Henceforth, Lake District days will be known as greys. Thus, the week will commence with Mongrey, then move on to Tuesgrey, Wednesgrey, … etc. Togrey, Tuesgrey, was at least forecast to be a dry grey; not a sunny grey, as such, but dry. [Note to self: this still leaves me a problem at weekends in that I may have to rename Sungrey completely.]
The combined landscape interests of Keith and Francine fancied beginning the grey, in relatively leisurely fashion, i.e. with a 10:00 AM after breakfast meeting, at Crummock Water. Now, had there been a sunrise in the offing, they may well have behaved like professional landscape photographers and been up before dawn, in order to make the 20-minute journey to their chosen destination in time for sunrise. Mercifully, for me, that is, the sun was not going to rise so everyone behaved sensibly.
Crummock Water was “interesting”. There was a weir at our end which could have provided photographic interest were it not utterly ruined by surrounding ugly, black metalwork. A boathouse sat on the far side of the lake which, in sunlight, might have proved a suitable subject but here we were with no sunlight. Frankly, I was having a hard time working out what one was supposed to point ones camera at. Every now and then, a passing break in the grey illuminated some tree trunks on one side of the lake and we amused ourselves with these.
On to Buttermere, one of the tourist honey pots of The Lakes. We headed for the free (for members) NT car park which was, unhappily and possibly predictably, full to overflowing. There being no room at the inn, we were forced to cough up £3 each to park for two hours in Buttermere itself.
Buttermere has an iconic lone tree. This is, I suspect, one of the most photographed trees in the country. It stands with its feet in the lake itself. Despite the grey sky, it had to be done.
Most interesting, IMHO, were a series of trees on the lake shore with their roots exposed. With the water being given Francine’s Big Stopper treatment, I thought they produced an interesting image.
Our two hours being almost up, we repaired to the Fish Inn for a pint of Jenning’s Sneck Lifter. While we were supping, the sun put in an unexpected guest appearance. Having swallowed our remaining bevvies, Keith seemed keen to show Francine Blae Tarn. (He’s been here before, BTW.) There are several Blae Tarns in The Lake District but he knew where this particular Blae Tarn was. Where it was was about 75 minutes away. We now spent the next 75 minutes driving to Blae Tarn. The sun’s guest appearance lasted a little less than 60 minutes. Arriving at Blae Tarn, the scenery greeting us was once again grey and frankly rather dull. The road up to Blae Tarn was far from dull, being steep, narrow and very twisting; quite an exciting drive.
(Obvious) Lesson: if you are waiting for the light, when it appears, don’t waste it by driving miles in a car. Use it where you are before it disappears.