A place to run

Passing through Hebden Bridge recently, I was reminded of a day in Spring - a day snatched between work and weather, in the first real warmth of the year with the first of the curlew on the moors above. Driving through the narrow streets already shadowed by the steep hills among which the town nestles, I wondered as I often have about my own feelings for the place. It is a town of character and one in which there is a sense of community long since lost in all too many places, and when the sun is out, it is vibrant, full of life and colour. It also reminds me of places I climbed in the winter, in Norway, in which celebrations are held each year on the first day that the sun reaches the town centre...Like many such places, feelings run high among those who favour the area, indeed if you were to listen to many local mountain-bikers, you might be forgiven for thinking there was nowhere else on the planet worth riding. But for me it has always been a place to run...
...among the wooded valleys...
...and up onto the moors among the lapwing and curlew...
...past the boulders...
...and crags I know so well from years ago...
...and across the rivers - a natural bridge the result of last winter's storms. Already there is a sense of Autumn in the air - perhaps it is worth another visit before Spring comes round again.

Comments