it is strange how the places of our past call to us
Weardale, not so many miles from the garret, and yet a world away in memories. I haven’t been up there in decades, and today I’m taking a short road trip to an area of hills, heather, dry stone walls, idyllic streams, and sheep.
These pictures aren’t mine, but I should have some good photographs to show you pretty soon.
The main thing is, a road trip into peace and quiet is good for the soul.
Except I’ll bet that when I get up there it will be raining