Yesterday I was out on one of our walks. It rained, it stopped raining, a weak sun trickled out, the wind rocked us, then it rained again. But nothing could stop us enjoying ourselves. We were walking a disused rail line that is now a walking path, in the beautiful Eden Valley. There is a magnificent viaduct that traverses this wonderful valley, where eagles swoop. I love this part of the world, as well as the quaint village of Kirkby Stephen where we end up. Diving into a cafe, we enjoyed tea and toast and felt glad to be alive.
Arriving home for the end of the news on t.v. I heard that there had been a police swoop in Manchester, Liverpool and our own lovely Lancashire, on suspected terrorists, who apparently were planning mayhem somewhere soon.
Talk about contrast. Up there by the Eden Valley you could forget all about the horror in this world of ours. What a pity we had to come back to it with a crash.
That has happened to us before. We were out walking in the Welsh hills and came back oblivious to the seige taking place, some years ago now, at the Iranian Embassy in London.
No wonder people become hermits - how wonderful to be able to escape the terrible things in this world...but for how long, I wonder can one actually escape.