Moving on up the valley we come across places where there is such magic and peace even in this busy world. Places that seem almost sacred in their untouched state. I bet people have dangled their feet in these water on days such as these for generations.
Who stood here last?
Even the woodlands have a magic about them. Stark rock faces with just the feintest covering of moss and lichen. Ivy tangling its untidy way towards the light. This is of course a haven for bird watchers although I am happier with looking at plants ... they stay still for longer. You can often see red kites wheeling overhead on the lookout for a tasty meal. And who is this little fellow?