England's one and only

I've had that planet feeling for much of the day.

Heading up to the Lakes last night, I decided to spend the night in Shap before driving to Haweswater first thing. This meant I enjoyed the sun rising twice today. Firstly, over the frosty fields as I drove off this morning and then over the side of the hills as I began my walk.  

I reckon it's over ten years ago that Rich and I had rather a special overnight camp right on top of High Street. We hoped we might see one of the two golden eagles that lived up there. We had barely arrived and, not hurrying to set up camp, we spotted both of them perched only a hundred or so metres away. It was quite astonishing and very memorable.  I've been up that way a number of times since and seen nothing.

Doing that same circuit today, I eventually decided to take my big camera just in case. I knew that recreating the same moment was impossible but if I caught a glimpse, I'd wish I'd had my camera. So I stuffed it in my sack.

The light approaching the fells was a true delight to see and, with no one on the roads, it was easy to pause, admire the views and take a few photos. 

That was sure to be my photo for the day.

Setting off uphill, I was keeping an eye out in the sky and occasionally peering over the cliff.  A movement caught my eye. A head! A deer, in a little hollow, was crossing the ridge only yards in front of us . 

Camera stuffed in rucksack! 

Little Dog and I both dropped to the floor and I rooted around to pull it out.  Deer gone. 

Still looking though, I spotted another head coming from the same direction. It saw me and stood stock still. Slowly, I walked in its direction and got a full view of it standing on the ridge in the golden light of morning sunshine. 

That was my photo for the day!

I tucked my camera under my arm and walked with it, at the ready, for the rest of the walk.  

The air was still, the sun warm with only an occasional chill from a breeze when I peered over the edge on the lookout (now, for anything!)

With nobody around, I'd already decided to stop on the summit edge for lunch but that's not really the norm for me and, with itchy feet, I kept walking. On the way to Kidsty Pike, I made myself stop, sit, look and appreciate. The crows were flirting with each other and quite funny to watch. I had another forced stop to take it all in on the way down. It was simply stunning.  While I was sitting there, I thought I heard a bird's cry. Looking out towards the reservoir, I saw a speck of a bird flying rightwards. Looking through my camera, it was too small and flying too fast ...only a crow. But, looking ahead, I spotted it was chasing something bigger. I was fairly certain it was the eagle but then it was gone.

Two specks versus a deer. Hmmmm. Which was to be my photo?

About 15 minutes later whilst heading down, the crowing from earlier caught my attention again. I looked to the valley side and, to my amazement, like a helicopter from an action movie, heading my way from below, rising up over the side of the hill, was a golden eagle being mobbed by three crows. Doing a double take, crouching down and whipping out my camera all at the same time, I managed to take a few shots. 

After no more than a minute or so of him being mobbed higher and higher in the sky, they all tumbled dramatically out of the sky.  There was nothing of him or them to be seen at all. I sat for probably another 40 minutes and lived on the feelings while Little Dog fell asleep in the sunshine.  We saw no more of him for the rest of the walk.

The female golden eagle died a fair few years ago of old age and he lives alone, perhaps a little sadly, in the high crags. 

It was certainly not a buzzard and I therefore conclude with a touch of English pride, that it is our one and only, golden eagle.  

My first butterfly of the year, skylarks merrily singing, a grey wagtail, a whole herd of deer and a Hercules plane heading low over the reservoir and hills would each, on their own, on any other day, have taken the limelight. 

But not today.

The dent in my lens hood from knocking my camera whilst scrambling up a few rocks will simply serve as a fine reminder of a truly, truly magnificent day. 

I'm now tucked up in my favourite place in Rydal listening to the hooting owls. Sleep is nigh.