Looking down the Valley from Haslingden Old Road.
This picture is on the wall in our hall at home. So as I took a photo of it, it may look a little blurred!!
I forgot to take my camera with us when we went for a walk last Friday evening and we were enjoying the self same view.
I was born and brought up in the Rossendale Valley, whose damp climate supported the cotton industry.
I roamed the hills freely and loved the sense of the agelessness they seemed to emanate.
Like the saying " As old as the hills".
So, on a beautiful sunny evening with the light sharp and clear, we found ourselves, Timelord and I, once again savouring the panorama, and remembering our roots. Both Rossendalian, and both loving hill walking.
The damp musty smell of the old stone walls. Spiky reeds, which I used to plait when I was young! The wind rippling field grass, the occasional sheep bleating, and a kestrel hovering overhead. Peaceful interlude in time. Clearing the mind for awhile of care.
The second picture, also on our wall at home, is looking to the north of the Valley, where the road eventually goes over the moor into Burnley.
Around the middle of the picture is a dense small wood on the left. And the streets on the righthand side housed our small community, and the street where I was born.
More hills and fields to explore!!
So for a brief interval we walked and talked about the days we used to live there, and all the memories which it evoked.
Until we turned once more for home
in the Midlands, all too soon.
PS Click on each picture for the larger version.
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