At The Old Rectory, Bowness on Solway ...

My gracious room in The Old Rectory brimmed with warm sunlight - through my window, I could see pine trees, outlined against a pale blue sky - the soft white bed promised soothing dreams - 

As I wallowed in the deep scalding bath, wreathed in steam, melancholy possessed me - our journey was ended - this would be the last evening we gathered together after the day's walking - 

Earlier, we had made our way through the village, past the King's Arms, down silent dreaming streets, away from the shore of the firth - a ruinous stone house had dark windows - I imagined entering its empty rooms, filled with shadows and whispering voices - we passed a churchyard, full of lichened gravestones, carved with old names - 

Downstairs, there was a large warm lounge, with a fleet of leather sofas and armchairs drawn up before a wood burning stove - two sleek dogs licked my hand, one after the other - a cat narrowed its yellowy green eyes in a snug corner - an antique telephone adorned a wall - 

We'd sat outside, in the garden, drinking tea, talking about primary schools - 

Bring out the Unsteads! Alyson proclaimed, laughing - 

We all remembered those colourful history books, with their simple certainties - 

I walked around the garden, dodging bold hens - some storm damaged pines had been felled - I heard again the ancient song of seabirds - 

Nervy youths were unfolding maps - tough oldsters were recalling their adventures on the Wall - 

I bought a tee shirt saying Walk The Edge of Empire - 

We agreed to meet in The King's Arms for a farewell dinner - 

16.30

15 Julu 2014

The Old Rectory

Bowness on Solway