|The road to Dufton Ghyll|
|Carpets of bluebells in Dufton Ghyll.|
|Descending into the forest|
Imagine a walk through a fairytale wood - carpets of bluebells, crystal clear trickling streams, ancient trees clinging to a mossy rock face, sunlight filtered through lush greenery and centuries-old bridges covered in velvety moss. This is a typical scene from the Eden Valley in Eastern Cumbria, a gorgeous area of Northern England near to the Pennines, the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales.
I had the pleasure of staying in the tiny village of Dufton, for a long weekend while researching locations for my new novel, A Proper Lady.
|Rediscovering my middle name.|
I also made a kind of personal pilgrimage to another small village that shares the same name as me. Puzzled? Well - I've long hated my middle name, Milburn (which sometimes auto-corrects on my Mac as Milbum and is right now underlined in red as I write), but near the village of Dufton is the small community of Milburn, a sleepy little place though the day we passed through everyone was making their their way to the village green for races and refreshments. I stopped for awhile to take pictures and left feeling a little better about my name though it still reminds me of that stuffy banker in The Beverley Hillbillies! I'll try harder to think about its real meaning - the mill by the stream!!
|This horse was tied up at a fork in the road as if he was there to give driving directions.|