Somewhere beyond the river Wharfe lies memories of an eternal summer. Wading in the river with swimming cozzies and nets catching little tiddlers and pebbles. Half eaten sandwiches, stonedashed dropped apples and dales ice cream dripping down the chin. The beautiful sun drenched days of being whisked away by my beloved grandparents for picnics and paddling. One of my personal, most favourite places in the world. A place so close to my heart, it is a part of who am.
Drove up to Burnsall today, with Demon Dog in tow. The twisted roads proved too much for Aro. Just past Bolton Abbey and 5 miles away from our destination demon dog blew chunks. In my poor mini. His darling little face gave the very human expression of ‘oh man. I don’t feel so good’ *spew*. A little fresh air and a quick clean up, Aro felt as good as new. So we zipped the last 5 miles of our journey.
Over the bridge and into the field, dog happy running free. Straight into the river until he realised it was cold and wet. A quick saunter up and down, memories flooding back. A sandwich and a flask of coffee later we depart to Strid Woods.
Despite the unearthly cost of parking, and my initial urge to turn round and go home after already paying stupid amounts to park in Burnsall, we paid our fees and parked alongside the River Wharfe once again. This time, demon dog did not have the same urge to jump into the river. Must be learning.
Our chosen trail took us into Strid Woods which is just past Bolton Abbey. Tall trees with the sunlight peeping through, the trail was an easy walk. Lots of beautiful scenery to take in. Seats carved from tree trunks. A man hidden away in a little wooden hut, whittling wood in to the most beautiful creations. Tables, wooden animals for the garden and tiny little woodland elves, with the cutest faces. We continued on seeing moorhens and pheasants, other birds and squirrels. Demon dog was happy to plod by our sides for a change. His earlier run made him just tired enough he didn’t want to leg it everywhere.
Such a beautiful day. On the way back we managed to just catch Richard Law of Flying Shavings, just so we could take a cheeky snap of him in his workshop and buy a little woodland elf. Here it is in pictures, because words just don’t do it today.