Four seasons (perhaps more) in one day

Monday wasn't a brilliantly sunny day, but, although it seemed too wet for OH to head off to the allotment or for me to do anything useful around the garden, it did seem a reasonable sort of day to go out. The rain was no more than a drizzle, and I figured that little bit of damp would keep most folks at home.

So off to Carsington we went.

Things seemed promising when we arrived. The sun was trying to break through. Wild roses were flowering in the picnic area. I took my waterproof jacket off and tied it round my waist, and off we went along the dam.

Looking behind us everything looked fine

but clouds were gathering ahead. I hoped they'd pass by at the far end of the reservoir

and before I had chance to put my jacket on properly rain and wind hit us, possibly even some hail.

This was also the point at which I discovered my cunning exercise plan wasn't helping me lose width yet - and although I could fasten my jacket I couldn't pull it down over my hips!

I was soaked.

I could barely have got wetter if I'd sat down in a puddle.

The only thing to be done was drag ourselves back to the car, and go home

Then the sun came out!

So, with another change of plan, we carried on in the direction we were now heading, through the picnic area and along the eastern side of the water for a little way to where a stone cottage sits with an interior made completely from wood.

If we'd walked this way earlier, we'd perhaps have been able to shelter inside from the torrential rain.

Looking out over the water, back towards the dam, we could see clouds gathering again, and decided to quit for the day. 

It takes about twenty minutes to get home, and by then the sun had come out completely, and stayed that way all evening!

A Short Walk at Staunton Harold Reservoir

Saturday evening was so lovely that after going round Melbourne Art Trail during the day, we didn't feel quite ready to head home, so drove just up the road to Staunton Harold Reservoir for a short walk.

From the car park a good path lead round the top of the reservoir to a weir where water flows in from a pond within Calke Abbey grounds.

At the other end, near the dam, there's a sailing club, cafe and visitor facilities but this upper section is quiet and serene (though that could have been because of the time of day)

From the weir the path heads into the Calke Estate, but access is only to the footpath which runs outside the deer fence. We saw a few deer - a doe and young on our outward leg, and a stag on the return - but there were far more squirrels scampering about the trees.








The path took us up a slight hill from where there's a view over surrounding farmland, and, with the sun about to set, we decided to turn round and retrace our steps from here.

The sky was starting to redden as we reached the car park, but saved its best display for our journey home. 

At Carsington - Dreaming of the seaside on a sunny day

I live too far from the sea.
 In fact it's hard (though just about possible) to get further from the sea in Britain than where I live.

For the past few years when I couldn't take holidays, Carsington Water acted as a substitute.
It has water - either blue and serene, or grey and choppy - yachts that make that jangling harbour-side noise when moored, and windsurfers.

Walk along the dam or out to Stones Island, and you can pretend you're walking along a seaside prom.

It's the next best thing to real sea.
It just doesn't have sand, or a spot where I can paddle.

Although I had a real actual seaside break planned for later in the week, I couldn't resist the chance for a few minutes at Carsington last Monday

Bank Holiday stroll at Carsington

The weather this May Day bank holiday wasn't brilliant, but on Sunday afternoon we risked the possibility of rain and headed out to Carsington Water.










We didn't want to walk far because Dylan the dog isn't feeling very energetic these days, but near to the Millfields car park is a little 'cottage' with all its interior carved from wood, and we thought this would make a good point to head for.




I think when we visited last summer the cottage must have been quite recently constructed - some of the 'fittings' were looking a bit battered this time, partly from graffiti, partly from weathering as there's no door to keep rain and snow outside.





















I'd mis-remembered the distance from the car park, so reached the 'cottage' much sooner than expected, and decided to walk on a little further.














It's a pretty section of the path which leads round the reservoir, especially with bluebells and apple blossom along the route.

There are separate paths here for walkers and cyclists, and by following one out and the other back, we turned a straight there-and-back walk into a figure of eight.

And as we returned to the car park, the sun eventually came out.

Top of Carsington Water

We visit Carsington Water quite frequently but tend to either park near the visitor centre, or walk from the other car parks to it. This time, for a change, I thought we'd park at Sheepwash car park and walk away from the visitor centre, towards the northern end of the reservoir; the top, if that's the correct word.

The path here runs along a narrow strip of land squeezed between reservoir and 'B' road, and, as the road seemed quite busy, I don't think it's as nice as other sections.

I'd expected that there'd be a view over the water - but oddly there are newish trees planted between path and reservoir. To me it seemed more sensible to have planted them between road and path, but I assume there was some reason for planting where they are.

After a while the view did open up. We'd gone out in the early evening, as the day cooled down, and looking down the reservoir it seemed quite misty.

There's a handy seat, placed in memory of a man and his dog who loved to walk here, by the reed beds at the top of the lake, and we sat a while, and let Dylan have a rest. The islands are home to a lot of noisy ducks and geese, and a silent, statue-like heron. I also spotted a reed bunting, and something large and black, either cormorant or shag, flew over as we walked back.

We didn't walk far. It's roughly a mile or so from car park to the reed beds, but that was enough to leave Dylan feeling tired, and having sat for a while it seemed like a logical place to turn round and head back towards a rather misty sunset.