My Monday walk this week features a section of the Lancaster Canal and the small historical market town of Garstang, both places which I hadn’t been to for several years until recently. Garstang itself lies just to the east of the main A6 about ten miles north of Preston and the same distance south of Lancaster, but my walk started on a country lane just to the west of the A6. Bridge House Marina is situated in a quiet location next to the very scenic Lancaster Canal and a few times in the past I’ve stayed on the caravan park there ; the last time was ten years ago though so with a possible future visit in mind and before the start of my walk I parked in a lay-by on the lane near the entrance and went for a wander round to see if it’s still as nice as it always was (it is) and to pick up a current brochure and price list.
Leaving the van in the lay-by my walk started from the entrance to Bridge House, and a short distance along the lane a hump-back bridge took me over the canal to the towpath on the far side. From there it was an easy and level 15-minute walk into Garstang, and with boats moored up in various places it was nice to see that nothing had really changed in the years since I was last there.
Heading into Garstang the canal wound its way past the outskirts and steps took me up off the towpath to a road bridge leading the short distance into the town itself. Just past the end of the bridge was Pickle Cottage, and with it’s very pretty and colourful garden it was worth a couple of photos. At the end of the road was a mini roundabout with the Farmer’s Arms pub set back on a corner, and going straight on took me into High Street and the main part of the town.
There were lots of interesting independent little shops along both sides of the road, several cafes and other places to eat, and a couple of pleasant weinds (side alleys) with more shops, and it was nice to browse in various windows as I went along. By the time I’d got towards the end of High Street the intermittent and often inconvenient clouds which had previously gathered were beginning to clear and the sun was shining in earnest ; an already warm day was turning into quite a hot one and as I knew of a nice place where I could chill out in the shade for a while I nipped into the nearby One-Stop shop to get a sandwich and a nice cold can of Coke for a mini picnic.
Across the road from the One-Stop shop was a very pretty little remembrance garden set back on a corner and a walkway from there took me past a small car park to a pleasant grassy and tree-shaded area by a bend in the River Wyre. There were plenty of people about, mainly young students, but there was lots of space so I picked a nice spot and settled down to enjoy my mini picnic, then following the river for a while I walked along until the path took me up onto a private lane past a playing field with a view over to the lower slopes of the Bowland Fells.
The lane took me back onto the end of High Street where I cut down one of the weinds to where a short but pleasant precincted area had been created since the last time I was there. At the end nearest the road was a low semi-circular concrete wall with an incorporated seat along its length and set in the ground was a circular mosaic featuring a very intriguing looking lion and an engraved plaque. The writing on the plaque reads “In 1314 a weekly market was granted to Garstang by Edward ll, renewed by Elizabeth l in 1597. The town’s charter was granted by Charles ll in 1680”
Information on the lion is very sketchy but it seems the original crest was designed as an official seal in 1680 by the newly-formed Garstang Corporation ; the mosaic has been designed by a North Lancashire mosaic artist and is based on images found in documents held by Garstang library. The word ‘villa’ has nothing to do with any large dwelling though, it seems to be a corruption of the French word ‘ville’ meaning town, so it can only be assumed that whoever designed the crest back in 1680 wasn’t the world’s best spelling expert!
From there I headed along the road in the general direction of the canal and just before I got to the mini roundabout near the Farmer’s Arms I came to The Wheatsheaf, made very attractive by the colourful hanging baskets along its front wall. Back on the canal I had another very pleasant walk with a couple of brief photo stops and arrived back at the lane leading to Bridge House Marina fifteen minutes later.
It had been interesting to see that although Garstang itself had undergone a couple of changes since I was last there the section of the Lancaster Canal between Bridge House Marina and the town was still the same – and the walk has prompted me to make another visit soon to start in Garstang and walk along the canal in the other direction. I remember how nice it was ten years ago so it will be interesting to see if that too is still the same.
This post was supposed to feature as a Monday walk but being without a computer of my own for almost two weeks, and having to rely on a borrowed laptop, has meant that I’ve been unable to deal with the many photos I’ve taken during that time. However things have finally been sorted out and I’m back in the blogging world although this pc operating system is vastly different to what I’ve been used to for the last x number of years. Though I’m still using the same photo editing programme things now look (to me at least) different to before – so I’m just hoping the shots in this post look okay although the spacing may be slightly different.
The recent gloriously sunny warm weather has been too good to miss so one day last week I took the reasonably short drive from home to Sunnyhurst Woods, a place I’ve been to several times before. My previous walk round there had been before Easter on a rather dull day with very few leaves on the trees, which didn’t make for particularly good photos, however since then everything has burst into life and completely changed the whole place.
Approaching what’s known as the paddling pool I could hear a lot of barking and when I got there I could see a Labrador dog in the water having fun with a large stick. A young woman with three other dogs was walking along the path continually calling him but he was having too much fun to take any notice – I watched for a while as she walked right round the pool and went out of sight a couple of times in the hope that he would get out of the water and follow her but he stayed put. I’d gone past the pool and reached the bandstand and though the pool was out of sight by then I could still hear the dog barking and it crossed my mind that the only way he would come out of the water was if the young woman went in there to get him.
A distance past the bandstand I came to where two paths met and at the junction was a stone pillar with a simple figure of an owl carved on one side. I took the right hand path which followed the river for a short distance before taking me uphill in the direction of Earnsdale Reservoir. Away from civilisation it was so peaceful walking along with nothing to hear but birdsong ; at one point a robin flew across in front of me and landed on a tree branch above, staying there long enough for me to snatch a couple of photos of him.
At the top of the hill the path opened out and a gate took me onto the road across the reservoir dam. On the right was a field with two lovely chestnut horses grazing from hay nets hung on the field gate ; I’ve seen these horses before, in the distance way up on top of the hill but this was the first time I’ve seen them close up. They were a beautiful colour and if the dogs hadn’t been with me I would have gone to say hello to them.
Across the dam a gate led to a narrow path through the trees at the far side of the reservoir and as I’d never been along there before I decided to check it out, though not knowing just where it would take me I only went so far before retracing my steps. It certainly gave me a different view of the reservoir, which I thought was a much nicer view than looking at it from the other side, and it was worth taking a few shots.
The road across the dam turned into a country lane leading past fields with views over the reservoir and the countryside beyond and with the peace and quiet it was hard to believe that I wasn’t really all that far from civilisation. Approaching one field I saw what I thought at first was a sheep lying in the grass but then looking at its face it definitely wasn’t a sheep. It was very woolly though, and when I saw its companion grazing nearby I came to the conclusion they were alpacas. Not far from the field was a house set in its own garden so presumably they belonged there.
Just past the alpacas’ house the lane turned a corner and a distance along brought me to the Sunnyhurst pub. There was a path directly opposite which I knew would take me up to Darwen Tower but that was a walk I would do another time. Past the pub was an entrance back into Sunnyhurst Wood but I decided to stay on the road and follow it round to where I’d left the van, and my last shot of the day was part of the very pretty garden belonging to a big detached house.
That was the first time I’d walked across the reservoir dam and discovered what was over the other side and I’d found it to be a very pleasant walk, certainly one I’ll do another time. And now I know that the Sunnyhurst pub has a car park next to it I’ll be able to leave the van there when I eventually decide to do the walk up to Darwen tower.
With lots to do ahead of the coming Easter break I didn’t really have time to go too far on my dog walks over the weekend so my Monday walk this week is just a local one round Belmont village, only three miles up the road from home. Leaving the van outside my friend’s house in a quiet square at the bottom end of the village I first headed off across the main road and up the hill past the Black Dog pub. The pub has two signs outside, one at the car park entrance and the other on the side wall of the pub itself and strangely they are both very different ; the one on the wall is a mosaic picture and reminds me very much of a dog my friend once had.
Past the church I came to Ward’s Reservoir, though it’s always been known locally as the Blue Lagoon. The reservoir was built in the 19th century to supply water to the bleach and dye works down the hill, though over the years it’s become a well known local beauty spot. The Belmont Bleaching and Dyeing Company opened in 1878 and for many years was one of the country’s major dyers and cotton bleaching specialists, then in much later years it became one of the few companies in the UK capable of manufacturing a range of flame-retardant textiles.
The company finally closed down in 2004 with the buildings eventually being split into individual industrial and commercial units, though the reservoir and land around it began falling into disrepair. An independent study and report concluded that it needed at least £40,000 spending on it to bring it up to the standard legally required by the Environment Agency but the owner, a local man, was unwilling to spend money on something which no longer had any commercial value, so in 2010 he ‘pulled the plug’ and the reservoir was drained. It was eventually sold to a local consortium based a few miles away, repairs were undertaken and it was allowed to fill up again although every so often, especially after periods of heavy rain, a certain amount of water is released to prevent it becoming too full.
From the Blue Lagoon I headed across the nearby playing field and through a couple of pleasant residential streets to the top end of the village and the larger Belmont Reservoir. Built in 1826 by Bolton Waterworks to supply water to the rapidly expanding town it’s now owned by United Utilities, and not only is it home to Bolton Sailing Club it’s also an important base for wintering wildfowl. It’s not often that I see anyone sailing when I’m walking near there but this time the dinghies were out in force in spite of the very chilly wind which was blowing.
Across the dam and along the traffic-free lane I decided that instead of walking all the way along to the top of the road which would take me back to the village I would make a short cut down a public footpath past a small farm, and I was glad I did as I was rewarded with seeing a field full of sheep with their young ones.
The path eventually brought me out about halfway down the road back to the village ; it’s not an easy road to walk, especially with two dogs, as it’s narrow with no pavements and is a very popular short cut for traffic going to and from Belmont and another area of the town, but fortunately it wasn’t busy and I didn’t have to walk too far before it widened out by the former bleach works buildings. Ages ago I was told by someone – and I can’t remember who – that round the back of those buildings was a fishing place called Ornamental Lake ; it was one of those places that you wouldn’t know was there unless someone told you about it so I decided to check it out and was quite pleasantly surprised.
Eagley Brook, a combination of the outflow from Belmont Reservoir and the Blue Lagoon, flowed under the road and behind the buildings, emptying into the lake. Across a short bridge a path ran through the trees near the edge of the lake and in a clearing I came across a couple of small timber shacks, obviously for the use of anyone fishing there. Looking at the land it was obvious that I couldn’t walk all the way round the lake so I just snapped a few photos then made my way back to the road.
A short traffic-free lane took me steeply uphill to where I’d left the van and my last photo was of the water monument at the corner of the square. Erected in 1907 by Edward Deakin, mill owner and patron of the local church, it was to commemorate a clause having been successfully fought for in the UK parliament and inserted into the Bolton Corporation Act of 1905 to protect the flow of water into Eagley Brook from Belmont Reservoir.
Eagley Brook, along with water from the Blue Lagoon, provided an essential water supply to the bleach and dye works and there was a danger that taking too much water from Belmont Reservoir to supply Bolton’s homes and businesses would have a detrimental affect on the business and employment at the bleach works. The clause on the monument states that as compensation for taking water for Bolton the Corporation had to ensure a continuous flow down Eagley Brook between 5am and 5pm every day except Sunday, Good Friday and Christmas Day.
With that final photo I returned to the van and headed for home for a much needed brew ; although the sun had been shining for most of the walk the wind definitely had the chill factor so a mug of hot coffee was most welcome. There’ll be no Monday walk next week as I won’t be here – I’m off exploring pastures new so fingers crossed that the weather will be good and I’ll come back with lots of different places to write about.
A week of high winds, heavy rain and anything else that storm whatever-it-was-called sent down had effectively stopped me from going for a decent walk but by yesterday it had calmed down considerably so during a fine but dull period in the afternoon I took my chances and went out for a short local walk. My quest was to find a hidden pond which I hadn’t been to for at least twenty years but as I suspected that the location and route to it would be very muddy at this time of year I left Sophie and Poppie behind for once.
The first fifteen minutes of the walk took me across a nearby main road and along a couple of residential roads with detached and semi-detached houses with pleasant gardens. Many of the gardens were showing signs of spring but the first thing that caught my eye was the mass of bright red berries and green leaves growing up the wall and over the front door of someone’s house – as red is my favourite colour I just had to get a photo of that one. A few gardens away was a large bush with yellow flowers (possibly forsythia) and in the garden next to that was (I think) a large camellia bush with a lot of its flowers lying on the ground, which I can only assume is the result of the recent high winds.
Along the next road was Bank Top community garden backed by the attractive black-and-white building which was once a tennis club but is now the home of Bank Top micro-brewery, and in a secluded corner some recently placed cut flowers and a small memorial plaque set in the ground. Fastened to the side railings was an ornamental lizard which I don’t remember seeing on my walk down there last year – it was very colourful but I wouldn’t like to come across a real one in the undergrowth.
At the end of the road a cobbled lane took me down past the stables where I once worked and into the woods with a wide path alongside the river and a bridge up ahead, and though I would normally cross the bridge and take the path at the far side this time I followed the left hand path which eventually took me up a steep bank above the river. It wasn’t too bad to start with but as I got further along it became more and more muddy, and being close to the edge of a steep unprotected drop down into the fast flowing water I was glad I hadn’t got the dogs with me.
Eventually the path widened out and emerged into open land on the left, and though I had a fair idea that the hidden pond was somewhere in that vicinity there was no way of searching for it without scrambling under a barbed wire fence and getting myself thoroughly dirty in the process, so that one will have to wait until there’s been a period of warm and dry weather. Following the path took me downhill into what, according to a nearby signpost, was Eagley Valley nature reserve, and not far from the riverside was a tree bursting into life with yellow and white buds. The white ones looked like what I’ve always known as pussy willow but the yellow ones looked more like fat hairy caterpillars – it would be interesting to see what it looks like when it’s fully in bloom.
A distance past the tree the path branched left and right ; left would take me up to a large modern housing estate so I went right and crossed a bridge to a long and wide stretch of open land, locally known as Eagley Meadows, where I could see Brook Mill in the distance. As the land opened out I could see what seemed to be a large pond with a thicket of trees growing in the middle of it – I didn’t remember there ever being a pond there before but a lot could have changed in the years since I was last there, however on closer inspection it turned out to be an area of very waterlogged land with the water looking quite deep round the trees.
The waterlogged land encroached on the path at one point so I found myself walking through yet another patch of mud but once I was beyond that the going underfoot was good for the rest of the walk. At the riverside I saw the big black duck which I’d seen three weeks previously, he was swimming in the water but the current was flowing so fast that it carried him down the river before I could get another photo of him. Recent information from a duck expert has told me that he’s a cross between a domestic large Cayuga duck and a mallard ; Cayuga ducks originate from the Cayuga Lake region of New York State and will often breed with mallards, producing a large bird with the black/green feathers of the Cayuga and the yellow bill and orange feet of the mallard.
The path from the riverside emerged close to Brook Mill and from there it was all road walking in the direction of home, with my final photo of the day being another camellia bush in someone’s front garden, though unlike the previous bush this one seemed to have retained all its flowers.
Even though the gloomy afternoon hadn’t been the best it had been good to get out for an hour or so, though looking at the muddy state of my wellies when I got back home I was glad I hadn’t taken the dogs with me!
Since getting my new camera a week ago I’ve been itching to use it on a good walk but the weather has been against me every day – grey, chilly, windy and almost constantly raining, a big contrast to the unseasonably warm and sunny weather of just a couple of weeks ago. Yesterday morning we had sleet followed by more rain but by early afternoon it had been fine long enough for me to attempt a short walk ; I needed to pop into our local Asda store for something I forgot to get while shopping there on Saturday so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and take a route which would end at the store.
If there’s one thing this town isn’t short of it’s parks and there are two quite close to home though unfortunately the larger one seems to have been a victim of council cutbacks over the last few years. With broken chain link fencing bordering the lane to the nearby farm, the tennis courts long since gone and the bowling greens no longer in existence it looks rather uncared for and scruffy in parts and is really only fit for dog walking, but it’s still quite a pleasant place on a sunny day.
At the bottom end of the park I crossed the lane and entered the woods but instead of taking the right hand path which would take me in the direction of Smithills Hall I took the left, and with allotments on one side it was much more open than the other path. By this time some of the grey sky had cleared and the sun actually put in an appearance but unfortunately it was only short lived and by the time I got to the end of the path it had clouded over again.
The path brought me out close to the bottom end of a very pleasant residential road and at the confluence of Raveden Brook and Dean Brook. Raveden Brook, which runs past the grounds of Smithills Hall, is normally only fairly shallow but with all the rain of the last ten days there was a lot more water than usual, and Dean Brook was a really fast flowing torrent which wouldn’t have looked out of place on a white water rafting course.
The end of the residential road emerged onto a busy main road but continued across the other side ; at one time that part of the road led past a fishing lodge to the premises of an industrial sealing and bearing manufacturers but ten years ago the buildings were demolished to make way for Phase 1 of a new housing development. The lodge was eventually drained and filled in and Phase 2 is now underway ; on the gate into the site was a sign which I’ve seen in many places and which always conjures up an image of a huge triffid-like plant in a massive terracotta plant pot making its way across the road.
The road ended in a cul-de-sac and a footpath from there took me past the river, emerging onto a partially pedestrianised lane which would take me towards the Asda store. Set back off the lane were two cottages, originally very old but now much modernised, with the first one having a quaint but rather cluttered front garden ; at one time it had a couple of stables attached to it but the ponies have long since gone and the stables now seem to be used for storage.
It didn’t take long to walk from the cottages to Asda and by the time I got there the sky had cleared and the sun was shining again, however any hopes I had of taking more photos on the way home were dashed when I came out of the store. I’d only been in there ten minutes but in that time the sunshine had disappeared, the blue sky was turning to grey again, and as I walked through the smaller of the two parks close to home I just managed to snatch one last photo before the heavens opened with a heavy shower of hailstones.
The hailstones lasted until I got home but the sky stayed grey so any further photo taking would have to wait until a nicer day. Although I hadn’t managed to test all the features of my new camera it had performed well while I was out so I was more than happy with it ; it will certainly make an excellent replacement for my other one so now I’m looking forward to using it in much better weather.
Taking advantage of the recent (unusual for February) warm sunny t-shirt weather, and on a day when it was even warm enough to wear my cycling shorts, I took Sophie and Poppie for a local circular walk which I haven’t done for quite some time. Only a few minutes from home, and along a narrow lane, I got my first photo – a cute little cluster of snowdrops nestling in the partially shaded garden of a large house. The bottom of the lane emerges onto a busy main road and over on the far side is a large and pleasant triangle of green space. Bounded by the main road on one side and by minor roads with big houses on the other two sides it’s not big enough to be called a park but with a couple of benches it’s a nice enough place to sit and while away some time on a sunny day, and dotted here and there on the grass were several clusters of the deepest purple crocuses I’ve ever seen.
Following the longest of the minor roads I turned onto a track between the houses and emerged onto a wooded bank overlooking the steep cobbled lane I used to ride my bike down many years ago. A path through the trees brought me out at the bottom of the bank close to the bridge over Eagley Brook ; down in the water was the resident large group of ducks and among them was one I hadn’t seen before. I don’t know what sort of duck he was but he was black with a green head and green tinge to his feathers, and was twice the size of the others.
Across the bridge was Brook Mill, the first of a complex of three former cotton mills built in the late 19th century. Textile mills had existed there since the late 1700s but in the 1820s brothers James and Robert Chadwick began to redevelop the site. After James died in 1829 Robert amalgamated the business with a Manchester company and a model village was built for the mill workers ; this consisted of cottages, a school, a library, cricket pitch, bowling green and a park with a bandstand where the Eagley Mills Band would play.
Brook Mill was built in 1871 and Valley Mill was built ten years later, but after Brook Mill was burned out by fire in 1886 it was rebuilt in 1887 as the present building. The mills were managed at one point by the grandson of Samuel Greg, the founder of Quarry Bank Mill at Styal in Cheshire, then in 1896 Chadwick’s merged into the textile conglomerate of J & P Coats. Production finally ended at Eagley in 1972 and for many years afterwards the mills were used for a variety of commercial and industrial activities. Although the cottages and school (now a private house) still exist the library, bowling green and park have long since disappeared.
In 2001 Valley Mill was converted to residential use with 76 loft-style apartments on three floors, then in 2003 Brook Mill was also converted into 64 apartments on four floors. No. 1 mill, which had originally been built in 1894, was demolished and the land used for a small private estate of modern houses. Although I have no doubt that these mill apartments are very nice inside I personally would have no wish to live in one as to me the buildings have no ‘kerb appeal’ and look just like what they originally were – old mills.
A short access road behind Brook Mill took me to a footpath behind Valley Mill and a distance along was the very overgrown mill pond. The footpath emerged onto a large expanse of open land, part of which is used by Eagley Sports Club and has a football pitch, cricket pitch and tennis courts ; a cobbled lane at the far side ran alongside the river and took me back onto the main road and fifty yards or so along, and set back off the road itself, was a small private fishing lake.
Across the road a narrow tarmac lane took me past another couple of fishing lakes and a field where a group of ponies grazed peacefully in the sunshine, then a farm track through a wooded area took me to yet another fishing lake set on the edge of a vast expanse of farm land. A footpath close to one side of the lake ran along the edge of a field and up to the main road which runs past the end of my street but instead of going that way I went diagonally across the field to a gate and another path which would lead to a short cut home. At the top corner of the field I stopped and looked back at the view – it’s just a ten minute walk from home but no matter how many times I see it I still love it.
The path from the field took me past a second field on the right and the high hedges and back gardens of a row of modern houses on the left. About halfway along I came across a tree with thin branches which looked like they were doing their best to burst into flower ; the flowers which had already partially appeared were pink and fluffy-looking but were too far above my head for me to distinguish what they were. Early cherry blossom or something else? – I don’t know, but it will be interesting to go back in a while to see the tree in full bloom.
At the end of the path I crossed the access road leading onto the modern estate and zig-zagged my way home via another couple of footpaths and three very pleasant avenues, and it was down the third avenue where I got my last shot. Partially overhanging someone’s front garden wall was a huge bush covered in bright orange berries, and it was so striking that I couldn’t just walk past and ignore it.
Not being a gardener I haven’t a clue what the bush was but it was certainly worth a quick photo to end what had been a very pleasant local walk in some unseasonably glorious weather, and back at home the dogs and I finally chilled out with a much deserved cool drink.
Six months after my walk up Winter Hill last August when it was reopened to the public following the huge wildfire which devastated much of the land, yesterday I took the five minute drive up the road from home and had another walk up there to see what changes, if any, had happened in the last few months. As usual I parked at the San Marino restaurant on the main road, though the main car park was full so I had to use the one down the hill behind the building. And I was glad I did as the bottom end of the car park had great views over the countryside and just over the side wall was an enclosure with some cute little pigs – too big to still be called piglets yet not big enough to be called ‘proper’ pigs they were worth a quick photo.
Crossing the road from the car park I made my way through the nearby kissing gate (very awkward with two dogs as it doesn’t open very far) and negotiated a boggy patch which is always there then set off on the long steady climb up to the top of the hill. About a third of the way up I stopped to survey the scenery, and though the views had been perfectly clear down at road level they were rather hazy from the hillside path. The land on the left side of the path was still very much the same as before with large areas of burnt and blackened ground, although tufts of rough grass had grown through in some places and down in a gully I came across the bare twig-like branches of some sort of shrub with a few fresh leaves on it.
Not far from where I stopped I came across something I haven’t noticed on my previous walks up there – a rectangular concrete slab set in a grassy part of the path, with the words ‘fibre optic’ across it. The buildings for the tv and communications masts were quite a distance away right on top of the hill so if that was anything to do with the supply of broadband services it seemed to be in a very odd place – or maybe the slab had been stolen from somewhere else and just dumped there at some point.
Up on top of the hill I noticed that all the burnt fence posts and railway sleepers which had previously been piled up near the tv mast building had been removed, and just beyond the building itself a new flag footpath had been laid across part of the moor. I’d never been along there before so I went just out of curiosity and a few hundred yards along I came to a kissing gate set in a fence which had been burnt at the bottom and had partially collapsed. My good sense of direction told me where the path would eventually lead to – Dean Mills reservoir on the Smithills side of the moor. It was quite a distance and I didn’t want to go that far so I retraced my steps and headed back past the tv mast, along the access road and back down the hill to the main road.
At the bottom of the hill the moorland gave way to an area of woodland which bordered a field next to the main road and on the nearby gate was a notice about ‘sick trees’. I’d seen on the way up that the woodland seemed to have been thinned out a bit at the edge so this was obviously the reason, and the felling of some of the trees actually opened out the path a bit and made that section look much lighter.
Back at the car park I had another look for the little pigs but they had all disappeared ; I could just about see some of them lying asleep in their little house but getting another photo of them was impossible so I put Sophie and Poppie back in the van and we headed back home. That had been the longest and most strenuous walk for Sophie since her big operation just before Christmas and she had taken everything in her stride, so I think I can safely say that she’s now fully recovered and we’ll be back to doing our long walks again whenever the weather is good.
It had been good to see the signs of new growth appearing in various places on the moor so hopefully by late spring/early summer things will look better still. And the best thing for me? After the total silence which I experienced when I was up there six months ago just after the fire I actually heard birds singing this time – a sure sign that the moorland is slowly but surely recovering.