St Cuthbert Church

St Cuthbert's church was carpeted with the gold of daffodils as I came through the Lynch gate.  I had come here for solace as my dear Ron died suddenly on Monday 22 March and while many of the churches in the area had closed because of Covid I thought this one was open.

The church is Norman in origin

and this is the front entrance surrounded by Yew trees.  Although the porch was open the door was not so in the Spring sunshine I wandered around to the right side away from the sharp wind.  I have never though about why country churches have a low sloping sort of concrete attachment on the bottom of the church wall but as I sat down realised why, most comfortable.  I sat and contemplated and was joined by a robin who sat nearby on a gravestone and kept me company for some time. I rose and wandered off

spotting a group of these bell like plants. They are a little like lungwort but not quite.

There is pretty gravestone for the Postlethwaite family and a more austere but attractive

grave marker for Dr James Menzies 1853-1941 and his wife Elizabeth Ellen 1863-1937. He was the Kirkby in Furness doctor and must have been admired because the stone reads - "The skill of the physician/ shall lift up his head and/in the sight of great men/he shall be in admiration".

I left by the war memorial with its white and yellow daffodils.  For the history buff there are little biographies of the men by the gate but on this day of sadness it was not for me.

I admired the detail of the cross and went on my way home




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Quadrate

A square form, a quadrate, nestles by the side of a babbling brook in Furnace Wood. 

The question is what was it for?  I don't know.  Perhaps it is associated with one of the old industries of the Duddon Valley, the making of bobbins, iron making, coppicing or even a hand tanning pool.   It is a mystery to me. Water was used from the River Duddon and perhaps

from this stream in the 18th Century for water power to operate the box bellows below

at the Blast Furnace.  The charcoal produced from the surrounding woodland powered the furnace that once lit would burn for six months, producing molten iron every twelve hours. (The casting arch can be seen on the right).

Another question arises as I take you on the path up through the wood, of what this faded message once said.

At least there is no question of what these flowers are by the side of the path, although the various varieties of mosses might be another matter.

An entry to ABC Wednesday, a journey through the alphabet, this week sojourning at Q here

   

Fair Daffodils

 Near Endmoor, Kendal

This years daffodils seem to be holding up rather well. An icy winter with lots of snow must be just the thing to make them thrive.

And they are everywhere. River banks, country lanes, woods and gardens. Soon will come the next chapter of Spring as they disappear to pour their strength into next years bulbs.

Wood anemones, amongst the wild garlic, with a sprinkling of celandines, a spring salad.  But only one of those things is edible.  

Spring Came Slowly

One of the turnings of the seasons is on the day the clocks go forward, we head for Whistling Green and the Ulpha Woods in the Duddon Valley. This is a treat of a walk for spring, but as we all know things are different this year after an unusually cold, snowy and long winter.  The forsythia by the Bobbin Mill Bridge was only in bud

the fields of gold that usually great us were sparse. Few flowering daffodils, some in bud but most holding their glow within green leaves.  The daffodils in gardens are indeed out but the ones here are wild and always the last in any year, that is why we always leave it until the end of March to visit.  If you wish to compare and contrast then my post for the 30th March last year shows everything in full bloom, go here

A lovely sunny breezy day for a walk in the woods, even if there was a lack of daffodils the birds were in full song

and there is always lots of lovely moss.

"And the Spring came slowly up this way" wrote Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Daffodils in the Duddon

As the clocks change on Sunday we know that the wild daffodils in the Duddon Valley will be at their peak and the blue skies promise a good day. Set off for Whistling Green near Ulpha and park the car walking over the bridge and turning left past the house on the corner and on past the scattering of other houses in this hamlet and our first spectacular view of banks of daffodils. I have never ever been able to take a picture of this that does it justice and Sunday is not exception. On we walk down the road until coming to what was the Bobbin Mill (above) which is now a house and holiday cottages but the chimney is still there. Opposite here is the gate to the woods first following the stream on our left but leading to the woods.
These are not the sort of wood you will get lost in as the path is wide and a popular walk for people in the area.

Two thirds of the way through the woods when a gate is reached, the daffodils disappear and the path today is very muddy because this part is still harvested for its crop and the tractors have been in however after this bare patch daffodils appear at the other end just before the hamlet. The path leads out on to the Corney Fell road. Turn right up this nice steep road which gets the breathing going. Looking down to the stream below there a lots more daffodils.
Eventually we come to the cattle grid and walk some yards before turning right and over the bridge to head towards Frith Hall (below). This was originally a hunting lodge but later was a stopping point for travellers and smugglers. It is now in ruins and partly used by the local farmer. I took the photograph, below, because I liked the triangular cloud formation, that's Frith Hall on the right.
We are now on our return journey where I always look at this tree which was blown over in March 2005 when there was a great storm in the area with winds reaching 100 mph and half a million trees were uprooted. Despite its roots only being attached at one end it still manges to leaf.
We eventually come back to Bobbin bridge and back to the car. A beautiful day with a rather cool north westerly wind but warm in the sheltered woods.
Boots off we head for the Manor Arms in Broughton in Furness a "mini beer festival each day" and drink Stringers Old School Porter (a local seasonal beer) and Copper Dragon which always reminds us of a holiday we had in the Ribble Valley where there was lots of it.

ABC Wednesday - D

D is for Daffodil

Their shoots are only showing through a couple of inches at the moment but this was taken in April of last year. Culpepper says "The roots boiled and taken in posset drink cause vomiting and are used with good success at the appearance of approaching agues, especially the tertian ague, which is frequently caught in spring". I think I'll stick to aspirin.

The church is that of St John the Evangelist who I seem to remember protects against poisoning which might be useful when you are boiling roots. The place is the secluded Woodland Valley on the edge of the Lake District.

ABC Wednesday 4th Round