It’s Mothers Day today. You didn’t get a card from me (sorry). Not because I forgot, but because I had no idea until this Friday that it was Mothers Day today. Sorry (again).
Mothers Day is supposed to be in spring isn’t it? Spring is on its way for sure, but it’s not here yet. As I type I can look out the window and see snow. Every so often the sun comes out and tries to melt it, but then another snow shower delivers a fresh layer to replace what was lost.
I was thinking this morning about Mothers Day, a day I usually treat as an afterthought (and that’s what I’m doing again now). I took Holly for a walk around Baal Hill Wood (we walked above it that day we took you to Tunstall Reservoir). Baal Hill reminds me of the steep wooded valleys around Farley Water Farm in Exmoor. Our wood isn’t as steep, and most of its ancient trees were lost to industry a long time ago, but I always remember those Exmoor holidays when I go to the woods.
So what was I thinking as I walked in the woods? I was thinking that I wouldn’t be here, living in Weardale, walking the dog while taking in the view of snow-dusted fells, if it wasn’t for you. You gave me my love of the wild places, my love of nature, and my love of border collies (not sure if I should thank you for that last one just yet).
Thank you mum, and happy Mothers Day.
PS: I took that photo this afternoon. Spring is definitely on hold up here!