Crow Stones

09/01/12

Walked up the Cut Gate path last night and onto the boggy expanse of the Derwent Moors.Had it in mind to sleep out amongst Crow Stones.

The silent presence of the ghost owl was on the moors.I saw him first disappearing into Bull Clough.A flash of white underside cartwheeling into the heather.

The sun set as I reached Crow Stones turning a so far ordinary sky into something else.Wind sculpted,weather smooth rocks were silhouetted against a bleeding sky.Such magic is fleeting perhaps five minutes at most past before dusk settled cool,damp and unspectacular.

Sitting with a brew and my back to the rocks I felt something watching me.Above on slender silent wings hung the ghost bird.Gazing down.Intrigued.He spun on the wind and swooped closer for another look at me.For one sublime moment we were eye to eye.Our orbits on the moors crossed paths.Our different worlds touched.

Then he was gone without a look back. Absorbed into the half light.I sat and felt the cool damp of night settle and an Easterly wind pick up.

With no tent I opted for a sand bed under a large grit stone boulder.Low and coffin sized it kept the wind at bay just about.

Dawn came with a comical grouse cackle and mist down about the moors.I brewed up in the bilberries and headed out for home.