The Real Garden of Eden

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.

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