We went for a walk instead!
High Pike was our aim, with a very handy shelter near the summit for a spot of soup.
And a memorial seat on the summit to rest your weary legs. This is in memory of a 16 year old local lad, killed in 1944 (presumably in the war). Mick Lewis.
On the way up the fell, we had passed some red grouse, and once up here, the summit was alive with the sound of sky larks which were hovering overhead, on the track down we found a number of clumps of frogspawn.
Spring really is on it's way.
All that and still time to fill the hole in the garden with muck when we got back!
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