News and Thoughts from Ambleside.

Here in Ambleside, we are watching and waiting as the country begins to emerge out of the lockdown. Local residents, are holding animated discussions about the inevitable return of holidaymakers to the village.

‘The pavements are narrow in Ambleside’. ‘Is it really going to be possible to keep a safe distance in a crowd‘?

‘Are all of the shops, restaurants and cafes, especially our favourite ones, going to survive the crisis and re-open’?

‘Will we have a second wave of the virus when the visitor numbers increase‘?

‘How will the residents and the local wildlife readapt as the noise and busyness returns’?

So many questions, that I’m sure are often repeated elsewhere in the U.K. Uncertainty, seems to be the English in-word of the month. Uncertainty, isn’t easy to live with, but we must do our best to have some peace of mind. In the meantime, we’re all hoping for a safe and gentle return to a ‘normal life’ for everyone.

On a more positive note. Like many other places, Amblesiders have formed new lockdown friendships…human and animal. A warm kindness, connection and willingness to support one another has emerged.

On my street, there resides a special tabby cat. She has several names. Riley, Pilchards, Milly and Flossy Floo! I prefer to call her Milly. She’s approximately ten years old and lives outside all-year-round. One neighbour has built her a little wooden house. Which she reluctantly moved into! Before the lockdown, Milly would trot away in disdain when I knelt down to touch her warm, thick fur.

Now though it has become a different story! Milly is lonely. She longs to be stroked and spoken to in soft tones. She still has plenty of tasty morsels in her dish but the passersby have diminished dramatically. No longer, is she nourished by human touch for most of the day. She’s moved her place of surveillance, from the deserted street to the pedestrian crossing in the centre of Ambleside. There, she sits, by the wooden seat waiting patiently for someone, anyone, to ambush for attention.

Of course, I’ve stepped in! How could I resist her pleading miaows? Plus I’ve also made a new chum!

Milly will be delighted when Ambleside is once again populated with visitors!

While the majority of U.K. workers have either been working from home or furloughed. I’ve been travelling to work on eerily deserted roads, listening to the frequently recited Government catchcry. On the one hand feeling lucky I’d retained a steady income. On the other hand feeling that being furloughed would be safer.

So my typical ‘lockdown evenings’ were often spent on a walk or a swim/cycle. The most picturesque cycling route meanders through Rothay Park, over the packhorse bridge and along the lane Under Loughrigg. In spring the lane is lined with ramsoms, cheeky yellow dandelions, delicate welsh poppies and healing dock leaves. The bordering woodlands are high with the scent of bluebells, a hint of garlic and starry-white wood anemones.

The nesting birds shriek out loud alarm calls as my bike swoops along the bumpy tarmac. It’s a fabulous view over the river Rothay and across the sheep-filled fields, towards the majestic Fairfield. Fairfield wears many different moods that are usually weather dependant. Not dissimilar to humans really. People seem to smile and behave more good-naturedly in the sunshine.

On most of these particular evenings, there are no humans about. During the ‘old normal’ I would have passed several couples, small groups of walkers and mountain bikers.

Dusk has always been a precious time of evening in the Lakes. Particularly, now the Covid19 quiet and tranquillity are still upon us. The air transparency has become outstanding and the colours luminous. The fells are brighter, sharper and more vital. The sky is bluer and cloud formations seem closer and more noticeable. Almost as if the world has been repainted!

On arriving at the lake, I see my favourite sun-warmed rock is waiting. It holds a considerable view, extending along the length of the shore towards the tree-lined island. This evening the lake has undergone an idyllic metamorphosis. The water shimmers and glimmers with the imprints of vegetation and sky.

On my left, a kaleidoscope of leaves, glistening smooth rocks and a restless woodland that often whispers in a breeze. On my right is a different picture. A dreamlike, impressionist painting of muted greens, dusty grey and pale pinks. At that very moment, a resident swan glides by.

He is captured in the mirror.

After a warm and satisfying swim, there was no hurry to cycle homeward. I settled down comfortably on the sloping slab and waited patiently for the sunset magic to begin.

The wildlife on the lake was in full voice. The Canada geese honk loudly, almost drowning out the chattering mallards. Who, hilariously seem to spend the early evening, clattering across the lake squabbling over the best roosting spots! A couple of hunting river bats silently twirl through the dwindling light. Tonight, there is no shortage of mayflies or tiny flying insects to snap up. There’s plenty of food for all in the spring.

The swan had located his mate. She followed him dutifully, her feathers fluffed and fanned out beautifully. Very slowly the sunset fire began to emerge. Yellow, pink and violet-grey clouds magically appeared in the water. As if lit by an invisible being yielding a flaming torch.

A favourite quote by Toni Morrison sprang to mind. ”At some point in life the worlds beauty becomes enough”

As the dark began to close in, I reluctantly rode my bike back through the woodland, bouncing over gnarled tree roots and dodging the sharp-edged stones. A nearby owl gently hooted.

Suddenly, my good fortune became crystal clear.

Plenty of folks I’m sure would like to be on holiday in the Lakes enjoying the glorious sunsets. Walking on the fells, staying in a B&B and socialising at one of the numerous Ambleside establishments. It’s been a long and difficult time, especially for those without gardens or access to green spaces. They must be immensely relieved that the lockdown rules are easing. The tragedy of many thousands of deaths has also touched many families and continues to do so. It’s important to reflect and remember the misfortune of others, but also to be grateful for the small blessings in one’s own life.

In time, millions of people from all over the world, will return to enjoy all Ambleside and the Lake District have to offer.

Though…I wonder if ‘The Lakes’ will be the same as they remember them?

Finally, surely there is hope for change. Our previous normality is one we can’t go back to. Our world has been altered by the virus. Hopefully, we can reshape it into a better one.

Keep well and safe everyone.