Snell Publishers

Independent e-publishers of fantasy, self-help and travel poetry

Three buses to the moor

We leave town passing through a green leafy tunnel formed of trees reaching over the road from both sides and catching hands. Then the open country arrives and we are driving beside the flood plain of a mighty river, which floods in winters when there’s heavy rains. Then we begin to climb and on our left is a range of hills and these are the foothills of the much higher land to the North. The sheep are lazy in the fields, sleepy with the heat. Even the big russet coloured cows are hot and shelter from the sun under the one tree in their field.

The bus continues to climb and now the sheep are shorn in the field, and there are ravens in the mowed field. We pass the local castle (in miniature), its flying the flag. There’s an ancient tractor idling in a field and then we cross the bridge over the river, which is so narrow and old that there is one way traffic. Everyone has to wait for everyone else. There’s no alternatives, it’s the only bridge and it’s barely wide enough for the bus.

On our right are densely wooded steep slopes and then beside the road on a green layby there are travelers caravans, three old fashioned ones, wooden mostly and five carthorses tethered grazing on the common ground.
There’s a change of buses and we now have a small single decker bus after having double deckers for the first part of the journey. The next bus is the 398 and this leaves the town behind looking like a scene from a French village, and this bus also begins to climb but now even more intensely as we are entering moor. The trees on the hillside get bigger and there’s the smell of the pine from the fir trees with their deep green shade.

Then there is another change for the third bus and there’s a wait at noon in intense heat and sun. The hedgerows now are pink with rosebay willow herb and white with Queen Anne’s lace. We climb narrow lanes and there’s a sleeping goat on a hillside. There are more climbing roses falling over the road and finally we turn a curve and ride over a yet narrower bridge to arrive at our destination and it looked like this:
(Rosebay willow herb, sheep, flood plain, bus travel):

moor1