Beautiful weather today for a fun, easy 11 miles to Brontë country. A heat wave is expected across much of England this weekend, which sounds great after recent chilly, wet days, but I’m sure I’ll be wishing for some cool wind out on the shadeless moors. Today was the perfect temperature, in between the weather changing. Which was a good thing because I don’t feel 100%; yesterday I thought it was just energy lagging a bit, but today I was slow and wanted to climb into bed when we arrived in Haworth. Fortunately, we took a small wrong turn detour on the way to the pub we’re staying in tonight so we walked right by the Brontë family parsonage, museum and church, taking in many blue plaqued-buildings describing the Brontë sisters’ life in the village in the mid-19th century; including the old post office from where they mailed their manuscripts of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights to their publisher. I didn’t have the energy to go back out to explore it all anymore, so I’m just soaking up their inspiring landscape from my window. Took some cold medicine and plan on sleeping a lot.
And I’ll be happily reflecting upon today’s walk. There was a very big climb out of Hebden Bridge this morning, and then pretty pasture land, a steep clough to climb down into and back out of; pretty scenery all of it, and wonderful flowers (bluebells are still blooming!) After that we were back up on the moors for most of the day. The paths are drying up, but there was still some bog hopping to keep the feet mud free. We stopped for lunch by a reservoir, enjoyed some trailside cheery messages and artwork, filtered some water from a surprise stream we came across, climbed over some challenging stiles, saw a Greylag goose and her goslings hiding under a bridge, and startled a whole bunch of oystercatchers who must have had a nesting site near the path because they screamed at us. Eventually we came over a rise to see the old farmhouse that supposedly inspired the bleak, windswept descriptions of Heathcliff’s home in Wuthering Heights. It was another 4 miles into the village, and not an easy path, but the trail was full of literary pilgrims seeking out all things Brontë. I guess there are so many visitors from Japan that the signs include directions in Japanese! We walked down the trail, past Brontë falls, and I was relieved to soak up the environment of this great writerly family while on my way to a night’s rest. Win-win! Now as I write this, the sun has set over the moor out my window and the St. Michael and All Angels’ church bells (the Brontë’s father’s church) are ringing a good night.
