By a Mossy Gnome

Just standing in a stream trying to catch some minnows

Heron and bluebells, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

Why are all those photographers looking at me? Are they paparazzi? Here I am, minding my own business, just standing in a stream and trying to catch some minnows, and suddenly there are people creeping up on me. There's a man on that side of the stream, tiptoeing through the woods towards me with a big, serious-looking camera with a big serious-looking lens. Then there's that woman on the other side of the stream with a much smaller camera - looks like a blogger to me - picking her way across some wet ground to try and get bluebells in her picture of me. And there's a man on the same side of the stream, further up the path. And another one, watching me from behind a tree. Photographers everywhere. Now I know how Princess Diana must have felt.

What's a hungry heron to do? Don't they know how much concentration it takes to do catch lunch with a beak? It's like having to do everything with a long pair of chopsticks. If I disguise myself with a pair of dark glasses tomorrow, will they leave me alone?

Clouds of blue

Bluebells, Loughrigg, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

I realise that it's become an annual pilgrimage.   Every spring, when the bluebells are in flower, I make my way to White Moss Common, between Rydal and Grasmere.  This is always a lovely corner of the Lake District but during May, when clouds of blue fill the woods and creep part way up the  mountainside of Loughrigg, it becomes more beautiful than ever.

The bluebells of Loughrigg

Bluebells, Loughrigg, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

You will just have to imagine the rich, hyacinth-like perfume of masses of English bluebells on a warm spring day. Also imagine the sound of birdsong from the woods around Loughrigg, and the distant call of a cuckoo. If you feel a twinge of envy, wishing you were there, you can imagine the sound of rain pattering on the hood of your jacket soon afterwards. The day started dry but cloudy, and soon became showery.

A mysterious veiled figure?

Castlerigg stone circle, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

The Mother Stone - that was how it was described to me at Castlerigg stone circle.  It is much larger than the others.   From this angle, I thought it looked a bit as if it might be the Whistler's Mother Stone, perhaps reinterpreted by Henry Moore!   It appears to be a seated veiled figure. One of the suggestions for the meaning of stone circles is that the stones represent individual ancestors - a custom which continues on a smaller scale today with the use of grave stones.   Perhaps this stone represents the person identified as the original ancestor of a local clan.  We can only guess. 

There is another mother stone in a stone circle at nearby Penrith - Long Meg and her Daughters.

A quiet moment in a busy corner of Lakeland

Bowness, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

Here is the lake shore at Bowness on Windermere, enjoying a brief respite from crowds of tourists, or crowds of waddling swans. The latter can usually be seen lumbering ponderously towards the tourists, like galleons that have grown legs and started to walk, demanding food. Sometimes the tourists can be seen backing away nervously from these large beasts. Swans look graceful in the water, but ungainly on land, and can be rather aggressive in their desire for sandwiches.

A striking scarecrow

Wray Scarecrow Festival, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

Another of the characters from the Wray Scarecrow Festival. This is a particularly striking scarecrow, and that’s a crow on his shoulder with the little sign - Official Peckit Line.

The flower-filled garden calls in this glorious weather, so there is little time left for blogging! The greenfly await my attention...

Tigers? Fairies?

Leighton Moss, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

The Marsh Harriers were being harried by gulls and other birds at Leighton Moss, in case they should have designs on their young. Geese, ducks and coots solicitously looked after their fluffy goslings, ducklings and cootlets (or whatever baby coots are called). Black Headed Gulls flew about with long, trailing bits of nest material. Flowers, like these kingcups, began to colour the austere winter landscape at the bird reserve.

Mysterious sounds occasionally emerged from the reeds. The noise like someone blowing over the top of a very large milk bottle was easy - a bittern. But what was that very high pitched twittering and tinkling sound from near the ground. Some of us listened, puzzled. Birds? Small animals? Fairies? And what about that low, gurgling, rumbling sound? A tiger creeping up on us, suggested someone.

A Wrayny day for a scarecrow festival

Wray scarecrow festival, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

Wray Scarecrow Festival is on this week and rain failed to deter the crowds from enjoying the inventiveness of the villagers.  Cars slithered across the muddy field used for parking, then the occupants picked their way carefully through the mud until they reached the village, which seemed to have been invaded by straw beings. There were plenty of puns on the word “Wray” and various topical references. Here is a straw Amy Winehouse.

Wray is a lively little village in Lancashire - as well as an annual scarecrow festival, it also offers maggot races.

Monk Coniston

Monk Coniston estate, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

There’s a new footpath leading from the shores of Coniston Water to Tarn Hows.   If you don’t have the energy to walk to Monk Coniston from Coniston village you can take the launch across the lake. There is also a car park by the lakeside.

Here is a view from the new path.  It leads gently uphill to an old garden which is being restored by the National Trust and a stone  gazebo with lovely views of the Coniston mountains and lake.  Beyond that the path leads through an arboretum to meet up with the footpath to Tarn Hows.  The latter was originally created by James Garth Marshall, Victorian owner of Monk Coniston Hall.

Hawkshead in the spring sunshine

Hawkshead church, originally uploaded by byamossygnome.com.

The holiday caravans were rumbling up the motorway this morning in preparation for the bank holiday weekend.  As we returned home, more of them were on their way.  One might expect the Lake District to be full of caravans by now, but they were not noticeably in evidence. Even the honey pot village of Hawkshead was quieter than might be expected on such a sunny spring day.   There were plenty of holiday makers around, exploring the odd nooks and corners and enjoying the sun outside pubs and cafes, but it was not uncomfortably crowded.  Here is the old church, perched on its own little hill overlooking Hawkshead.   Normally there are lots of tourists around, but here it looks very quiet.