Morning thoughts

I’ve been thinking about the magic of the mornings and different approaches to starting the day, prompted by our break in the Lake District last week. We had a view straight across to Skiddaw and, standing admiring the view with cup of tea in hand I was much taken with the mist on the mountain, or on other days the sea of mist in the valley, and the way it rolled away and the mountain revealed itself.

Morning mist

Sunday morning
wet underfoot
rainclouds hover
and the mountain hides
like a bashful lover

I can also feel just a little guilty at taking it in at my leisure while neighbouring holiday makers are already seeing off for a good day's hike. I like a good day’s hike as much as the next man but early starts on holiday don't come naturally.

Cumbrian morning

the early risers
tighten their bootlaces
adjust their backpacks
and stride off
while I
for my part
not having the knack
for the early start
sit and admire the dale
the scattered dwellings
the flanks of the hills
and think of breakfast