I swear, a true Yorkshire day in the desert, with grey looming clouds and grey thinkings. Funny how a blue sky immediately changes my mood. Grey skies stand often for grey moods. Will have to go and look for some extra color to balance it out again. And I don’t even have to do anything. By tomorrow the sky will be blue again. For sure.
Still going through my folders of a year ago, and digging nice memories mostly. The photographs are not always technically up to par, but who cares as they are my own pics, with only one goal: to not forget my last days in England. Did the same for my last days in Belgium, at times you just want to go under a little in old dreams and time frames.
Instead of my Markington tree I now have mountains and desert. So different, and both with their own beauty. How many times did I stand here, on the cross roads, one way to Fountains Abbey, the other to Markington, and the third one an alternative way to Base.
When we left it was harvest time. The so known hay bales waiting to be picked up. Hoping with the farmers that it would stay dry till they were under wraps. Food for winter for the animals.
I do miss the possibility of having a bunch of cows trotting down the rural road. Always a welcome sight, hoping that it was going to be a big herd. Being blocked for a looonnng time… Saying hello to Minnie and Bella and Ida and Milly…
If cows were not available, sheep did the trick too. High up in the hills, where they roamed the roads and heather spots. I bet the heather is blooming now in England. Purple all over. Every year I had a heather drive, relaxed, going up, talk to some sheep, and smell the smells of coming fall.
Going to base via Shaw Mills, and go back home over Pateley and the Moors. Such a different life compared to the good life I have now.
A time for everything and just makimg every day count. British or American. The Yorkshire day in the desert brings much needed rain. I can go dance in it! All the doors and windows are open so the smell of that rain can come in.