The “No Wainwrights” Lake District Backpack

After all the shenanigans getting ready for my art exhibition at the start of the month, and then helping a friend with her exhibition which immediately followed mine, I’d managed to rack up a couple of months without any significant time in the outdoors. Other than a brief snatched camp out locally, but then a tent hidden between a farmer’s field and a landfill site is hardly quality outdoors. It was high time I got out into the hills.

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Sunset at Tarn At Leaves

More Joy of Tarns

I looked out through the tent doorway and watched the crepuscular reflections of the fell’s upper ramparts on the tarn a few feet away. Barely a ripple disturbed the surface and I sat alone enjoying the evening burst of colour in a location where the predominant colours are usually green and grey. The sun sunk lower and the colours and reflections faded, bringing the coldness of night. I retreated into the tent and settled down for another night alone on a Lakeland fell.

Sunset at Tarn At Leaves
Sunset at Tarn At Leaves

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