Here we go again

Sunday's meant Purbeck of late, well, why wouldn't it, the weather's been very conducive to fabulous walking and the Jurassic Coast is a fabulous landscape to walk. Up and out early, again we had the morning to ourselves, and glorious it was. Having enjoyed last week's walk so much, we decided to take the same route again, the Povington Hill down to Tyneham Village, out to Worbarrow and up to Flowers Barrow, then back along the ridgeway to Povington Hill loop, not long, about 4.5 miles. And again it was wonderful walking, just as last week. Although it was considerably hotter from the get go this morning, by 0900 it had become a sweat fest with Old Bel showing he wasn't spent yet, the air was still and warm too, affording no relief. I can't imagine how hot it must've been by midday, Another thing different this week was that Worbarrow Bay was filled with yachts at anchor, I say filled, there were 15 or so, and you could understand why, what stunning views to wake to.

Tyneham Cap & Gold Down

The valiant Sun, shining wearily in a pale blue sky whispered autumn, though the chill winds that scour Tyneham Cap and Gold Down shouted winter. To add to the confusion, throughout my walk sporadic blocks of cloud delivered moisture, because rain is loyal to neither season and will happily fall in any. The coast though was absolutely stunning; it always is. Standing at Townley Shenton's seat, high atop the 167m high knoll of Tyneham Cap, no matter in which direction you point yourself, you're faced with jaw dropping views of exquisite natural beauty. It doesn't matter how many times you've seen these views (and we've seen them hundreds of times), they never loose their wow factor. As cloud scoots across the sky, light dances over the rugged coastline and cliffs, across the ancient drystone walls, copses and hedges of the arable/pasturable patchwork which cover the valley, and through the high rough grassland which cap the hills and ridges.  These appear timeless scenes, scenes which draw you in, scenes that touch something deep inside you; there's something about wild places, or places steeped in history which make your spirit soar. Purbeck is one of those places, Purbeck is a landscape you feel. As if to reinforce my feeling that I was walking in a landscape walked for thousands of years, I picked up some worked flint flakes, from the edge of a ploughed field high on the ridge and was instantly connected to someone who walked here in prehistory. Marvellous.