Still running, sort of....

Hospital appointments are coming thick and fast, recently two a day at different hospitals.  Yet none of my doctors/surgeons/consultants have told me to stop running.  One was even inspired to start using his exercise machine again before starting work each morning.  Or so he said...
Hours sitting around in waiting rooms or lying on consulting room couches are taking their toll.  I try to stay positive by comparing myself to unfit and over weight specimens surrounding me - and that often includes NHS staff !   Come weekend I feel drained of energy and quite happy to relax with a cryptic crossword rather than run.
In spite of inclement weather last weekend my wonderful partner successfully eased me out of my rocking chair and lured me into the hills.

(Click pictures to enlarge)
It rained quite heavily a couple of minutes into our run and we almost turned back, but a patch of blue sky held promise of brighter things to come.
It conned us but we carried on.

As we plodded up the ghyll a cuckoo called incessantly, the first we'd heard this year, and it made our day.  Out came the cameras for a very short video to capture the sound.
Me running across is purely co-incidental!

Further up the moor signs have been erected for people to control their dogs during the ground nesting season.

Over the past few years numbers of pewit, curlew, redshank and oystercatchers diminished somewhat but now seem to be returning.

Each of the above mentioned species became rather agitated as we ran across the moor, an indication that many chicks were hiding in the grass and heather.

As we ran along they were dive bombing us, shoo-ing us off their territory, away from their precious chicks.

We stopped at one point to gather sphagnum moss for hanging baskets.

They kept up their relentless bombardment until we'd left the moor.

An oystercatcher stood on one leg and watched us, seemingly unconcerned.

We repeated the route on Sunday in more persistent rain, hoping to hear that cuckoo again, but we were disappointed.  The bird had flown, trailing those repetitive notes behind it to brighten someone else's day.

 Birds were still there and unwilling to make friends.

A curlew really got its knickers in a twist as we passed Scar Top house where chicks were dashing for cover.

We left them in peace and descended into the lush greenery of Hebden Ghyll.
Back to our crossword...