It’s one of those dark, damp, miserable sort of days that Britain sort of specialises in.
It wasn’t good when we woke up with rain pouring down. Always the optimist, I declared it may brighten later. The Dog and I pottered around the house until a mate rang and asked if I wanted a walk? I asked her if she had actually looked out of the window? No, came the reply and a better deal of a coffee was struck.
On my return, The Dog was pacing, wanting a walk. The rain had eased off but mist was lurking. My weather prediction was sort of true – it had improved slightly as it wasn’t raining anymore! Where could we go without having to a) wear wellies b) slither in gooey squelchy mud and get blathered. I needed petrol first, so headed off racking the old brain cells where I could go and crossing off each one. ” Looking like we’re walking the streets” I yelled at Dog in the boot of the car, which thrilled both me and The Dog – not. It was when I was idly filling the car, that the perfect solution cropped up and pleased with myself, The Dog and I headed off.
We drove to Yeadon Tarn, a suburb in north west Leeds, squeezed between the High Street and the Leeds Bradford Airport’s runway. It is home to the sailing club and on summer days, there’s usually a range of sailing vessels bobbing on its surface. Numerous birds also gather here, scrounging food off visitors and at the end, there’s a sectioned off area for conservation. For me and The Dog, it has a paved path circling the Tarn, which ticked a huge box for us and we headed off into the deepening mist.
Told you. Not a good day for photography. Couldn’t tell if it was a mist or just very low cloud. I couldn’t even see the runway of the airport which is literally next door and could hear aeroplanes taking off, but nothing else. It was also drizzling slightly. The whole place is waterlogged too after last week’s snow melt and the rain. Puddles are everywhere and the grass boggy. (Thanks, Dog for going to the toilet about 10 foot from the path, in a particularly boggy area and I had my fashion boots on as I thought I would be on tarmac!!)
We did three circuits of the Tarn, before I was getting chilly. The Dog dredged a ridiculously long branch from the Tarn, (a habit of hers to find the biggest stick, branch, log she can find and drag it around with her, usually clipping the back of your leg as she passes), but thoughtfully dropped it on the grass out of the way.
We headed home. Not much of a report today with such dire weather, but at least we stretched our legs and got some fresh air. Roll on summer.