Categories
Acrostic Outdoor Pursuits Outdoors Poetry

Packing

#SoCs #Holidays

Packing our bags again

as we head off for a country break

camping under some national park stars

key to this essential journey – notepad, camera and pencils

if needed – wellies and wet weather gear

navigation and maps essential for hiking and

good sleeping bag for kipping under canvas

Categories
Poetry

The Journey

#writephoto #thejourney

Salford (via Rochdale and Oldham), 17th August 2019

A Walker on a hill.

a tale of a rambler , by inky for the writephoto challenge

He went a walk with an empty backpack and staff

off to get a loaf of bread

many hadn’t heard from him for days, some

even thought him dead

For his boot prints went on and on

for what others saw as miles

past footpath and valley , hill and dale

and spot of nature where he’d stay a while

enjoying the fine weather

the silence and peace

and wildlife around him

it was a release

Drawing a scene half way up a hill

taking in sunshine and cup o’ tea till

time came to face his fate

coming back home far too late

Categories
Outdoor Pursuits Outdoors

Hike

Hike

An original piece of poetry by yours truly, It originally appeared on the Pages of Allpoetry.com but i’ve added a few lines and decided to share the new copy with the wordpressors – Hope you like it

His multi layered coat
is on his back
kinder scout area….
can expect an attack

He’s been planning this trek
out to the Peaks and his
movement theirin for about
eight weeks

His bag is packed,
his lunch – made up
thermos and map
and his favourite cup

Warm woollen socks
(to keep out the cold)
Thermal Fleece
(more precious than gold)

Wallet and Keys –
In a very safe place
and Binoculars –
to observe the wide space

Penknife to pull out occasional stones
Notepad  to record thoughts, drawings and tones
Money in wallet for the Bus and his tea
and watch , so he’s back for his dinner early

Small First aid kit – in case of mishap
(he hopes wont happen – to this happy chap)
Doesn’t need a car, a boat or a bike
Just a strong pair of boots
He’s off on a Hike

Categories
Art Colours Leisure Life Memories Outdoor Pursuits Outdoors Parks Places Pleasures

Mountain Meadow

#coloryourworld #cyw #mountainmeadow

Salford, 22nd February 2017

 

Lakeland, painting from photo by B.F.Kirkham

Mountain Meadow,

this colour takes me back to a particular time in my life

when my old boots would come off the stack in the hallway

and i’d journey with mates up and down the motorway

go north – and meet up with the cows of the lakes

rendezvous-ing with cows (mooing)

go south – and meet up with the sheep of the peaks

and reservoir regulars with bright coloured beaks

enjoying whatever the wind and the clouds threw at us

but mostly enjoying a sunny day.

 

A Tale of Old Boots

Good companion

 

 

Categories
Memories Outdoor Pursuits Poetry Scouting Scouts

hike

Hike

preparation done

his backpack full

a day on the hillside

its never that dull

 

Planned out a walk

cross moorland and hill

And stopping at reservoir

watching time stand still

 

Following a way

that’s old as Time

he’s having a packed lunch

when his watch does chime

 

Armed with a compass

binoculars and map

this accomplished hikers

a happy chap

 

and he’ll scribble his thoughts

at the boathouse by the edge

having drink at the pub

the sandpipers wedge

 

 

 

Categories
Camping Outdoor Pursuits Outdoors Schooldays Scouting Scouts

A Tale of Old Boots

In a part of the corridor, just by the stairs by the front door, lies a pair of Old Black Boots. It’s been quite a while since they have been walking. Their leather is worn from the passing of time…

Source: A Tale of Old Boots

Categories
Camping Character Description Memories Outdoor Pursuits Outdoors Prose Tale writing

A Tale of Old Boots

In a part of the corridor, just by the stairs by the front door, lies a pair of Old Black Boots. It’s been quite a while since they have been walking. Their leather is worn from the passing of time and many a moorland excursion. Lakeland water now pools at the toes.But they still feel right. As if once put on, they could take their owner from their Salford home out to the hills of Perpignan and back again, covering miles along the way and without a mutter or moan.

Now, Rugby boots and training shoes might be fine for a sportsman at Old Trafford but they don’t cut it on the fields of the West Yorkshire Moors. If these boots could talk, the tales they would tell – of covering rocky paths once stepped by Roman Legionaries, of campfire ditties sung round old ancient stones, and of moonlight illuminating mugs of steaming hot Beef Tea.

They’d sit outside tents so the groundsheet stayed clean, observing the melodic snoring around them.  And leave their owner a morning surprise if they hadn’t been left under the flysheet. They would walk for miles as their owner crossed field and moor, praying that they would avoid the hidden cowpats. Of course they’d get cleaned on one day, just before parade, as the group amassed around a solitary flagpole.

And when they got home, they created a bit of a fuss. Left outside on the evening news on a step by the Garden lawn.  Local politicians now have the boots treadmarks of mud and clay imprinted on them.  But then again, wi’ these boots – they’ve no interest in politics – unless it’s rights to roam.  The bucket and wire brush look threatening, next to the bin.  But these boots know – you can scrub em till the cows come home – this mud sticks!

Where they’ll go next, is anyone’s guess. But for now – having had a ‘tidyup’ – they just sit on the varnished wooden shelf, looking quite a sight with dark brown Yorkshire mud entrapped in the soles. They look at themselves in the tall hallway mirror and think of the streams they’ve crossed and the moors they’ve run, the bracken broken for kindling and stiles climbed in fun.

Mountain Meadow

Good Companion