Black Combe Walk

After a week of rain Sunday arrived with clear blue skies. We toddled out to take a walk to the top of Black Combe. The bracken is now all golden brown
and Moorgill Beck bubbled and gurgled in the lower reaches. A couple of raptors glided in the sky while nervous stonechats called 'tscak tscak'.
There were lots of wax-caps at our feet. I think these yellow ones are the Golden Wax-cap
and this is the Slimy Wax-cap. These particular fungi are an indicator of ancient grasslands and like moss and short grass. The sheep have been on these uplands for many centuries keeping the grass nice and short.
The trig point on the top had been newly painted a brilliant white. The Remembrance Day crosses had been placed at the bottom and a couple of poppies on the top in memory of those who no longer walk the Lakeland hills.

The breeze on the top was chilly but the sea below was still and the views were clear. The mountain ranges to the north, the Isle of Man and the Calf of Man to the west and Blackpool tower to the south. Looking towards the tower with binoculars The Man Who Knows said he could see the Big Dipper as well. Perhaps he could.

Path down from Black Combe foreground; In the sea - Barrow and end of Walney Island, top, with Hodbarrow Lagoon, lower left.

Returning on the lane down towards Whicham church here on this November day was a Foxglove. The hedge and all around was bare but this was budding and flowering. The Autumn days have been warm, almost spring like, so perhaps this mysterious flower had been enticed into life by the temperature.
Further along the lane the hedge's tops had been cut but a few branches were budding and also appearing, new leaves.

So perhaps the end of Thomas Hood's poem 'No' is not quite true for this month.

"...No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds
November"