You know those times when you get slightly tipsy and declare your undying love for someone – well I thought it was about time I did that for the fells.
Let me paint you a picture, I am currently sat in a London hotel room doing what I need to do to fund my writing habit (steady – NOT that – I deliver training courses, usually to solicitors) and I’ve had a glass of two of wine. I enjoy my job, I really do – but while my body may be in London for a couple of days, my heart is in the fells.
24 hours or so ago I was sat on top of Harrison Stickle eating my lunch in the sun and trying to articulate to a very good friend how much I loved the fells. I failed. I am, after all, a humble blog and walk writer and not a poet or a painter. But, to be fair, I have yet to read a poem or see a photo or a painting that can truly convey my love for Cumbria.
It’s like trying to explain the love I feel for my husband. I love him. I just do and I can’t explain it any more than that. Of course I want to clatter him sometimes (as I’m sure he wishes to clatter me!) and, in the same way, there are many times that I shout at the fells but I love them. With every fibre of my being I love them. There is an emotion there that runs deeper than any words or pictures will ever convey.
And, if I am honest, there is also a deep, deep jealousy. I know I am not the only person to love them and I am completely torn – I want to both share them with the world so they can see how amazing they are and, at the same time, not tell anyone else about them so I can keep them all to myself – does that make any sense at all?!
If you know me and/ or the fells perhaps you’ll understand and, if you don’t, you’ll most likely think I’m a little crazy (and perhaps you wouldn’t be too far wide of the mark!). Without a shadow of a doubt there is nowhere on this earth that I would rather be than far away from the crowds, in Cumbria, in the company of someone I love.
If someone who loved the city asked me to articulate why I loved the fells so much I would have no more chance of trying to explain it to them than I would trying to smell the colour purple. There is something deep within my DNA that is simply drawn there. I felt it the first time I visited just a few years ago and I feel it now stronger than ever.
I feel incredibly fortunate that I have found my home. Some people search their entire lives for the peace and contentment I feel in my adopted home and I know that I am incredibly lucky. The only downside is I feel a physical pain of separation when I am away from them – much as I do when I’m away from my lovely hubby. (I warned you at the beginning I’d been drinking!)
But whereas I don’t know what the future may hold for me and my lovely husband, I do know that whenever I am hauled kicking and screaming from this mortal coil, the fells will still be there and, hopefully, people will still be falling in love with them as I have.
I’m sorry this isn’t an elegant piece of poetry or a beautiful painting or love song, but this is me – and all I can do is have a few glasses of wine and tell the fells how very much I love them. Unlike my darling hubby who is well used to being on the receiving end of the “I’ve had a few drinks and I really love you texts” I can’t send messages to the fells so I’ve written this instead. I just hope they’re as understanding as he is. (And yes I may be embarassed about this in the morning, but beleive me I've done far worse... :-) )