The Water and the Rain

It's a rare day in England that it doesn't rain.  Englishmen and women usually carry umbrellas (they called them 'rain sticks' in 1929).  Tourists by double-decker buses in London are now issued rainproof ponchos with their tour tickets.  Mr. Ralph Graves, the author of "Through the English Lake District Afoot and Awheel" in the May, 1929, issue of National Geographic Magazine, was told, by a hotel hostess, "This drought has caused many of our loveliest waterfalls to disappear and our precious flowers are perishing."  Clifton Adams, the accompanying photographer, inquired, "How long has the drought lasted?"  He was answered, "This is Friday, isn't it?  We haven't had any rain since Monday" (p. 577).  So much for their idea of a "drought!"

The Lake District lies in the north, on the west coast of England, just south of Scotland.  There are actually 16 lakes, with the largest only ten miles long, and the most famous, Grasmere, "seems hardly larger than a good-sized swimming pool, with a mere speck of land in the center for an island" (p. 577).

It is not only the lakes that call to visitors and have inspired many a poet, it is also the cascading waterfalls, minor mountains, expansive pastures, and carpets of wildflowers.  The two travelers chose to tour the area in open motorcars.  "After a few excursions we became so accustomed to the recurring showers that we began to shun those coaches in which we recognized fellow-Americans, for we found that we could enjoy the scenery to greatest advantage when riding with the rain-immune Britishers" (p. 581).

Mr. Graves tells about crossing Windmere Lake on a ferry, "The ferry is well patronized during the summer and can accommodate twenty-five people and three automobiles at a tiime," (p. 585).  My sister-in-law's father ran the ferry on Loc (Lake) Ramor in County Cavan, Ireland, for many years while she was growing up.  As the history and politics of England and Ireland have been intertwined for uncounted centuries, and I remember some features of Ireland, such as the stone fences, the black-faced sheep, and the ruins looking nearly identical, I'll include several photos from Ireland with this account.

The author marveled at the lush flowers everywhere.  In England and Ireland, nature waters its bounty with the daily rains.  Usually, the showers are brief but it is very humid with frequent mists and fogs in these islands of the sea.  Here in Central Kentucky, U.S.A., a daily short rain would be quite a luxury.  Every year in this month of August, flowers and lawn alike will appear burned if they are not watered daily.  In years past, when the July temperatures hovered close to or over 100 degrees for a week or two, most of us gave up the expensive watering, let everything turn brown and enjoyed the air conditioning inside our homes.  We knew it will be green again in Spring.  This year has been an exception: everything is still a pleasant green.  Indeed, it is raining at this very moment!

Isn't it interesting that the English and Irish, on their small islands, do not tear down and cart away most of their abandoned edifices the way we Americans, with land from sea to shining sea, generally do?  Their countryside is graced with lonely but not forgotten roofless barns, abbeys, and houses.

Church ruins at Fore Abbey, County Westmeade, Ireland, July 2011

Me, Jan, in the common room of Fore Abbey.

Ruins of Fore Abbey.  The tallest point is three stories tall.

 

My brother, Don, at the wall near the Fore Abbey ruins' entrance.  We spent several hours climbing the hills and over rocks, inspecting the abbey, wondering how life was for the 300 Catholic monks and 2,000 students that inhabited it in the 16th century.  Still visible were the holes in the rocks where large beams held up floors and ceilings.

 

King Henry VIII raided Catholic abbeys and closed them in both Ireland and England in the 16th century to enrich his treasury and destroy the Catholic church but, at least at Fore Abbey in Ireland, he allowed the monks to live!

As a child, do you remember reading the adventures of "Peter Rabbit" by Beatrix Potter?  In 1929 she lived in the Lake District "at Sawray, near the shores of Esthwaite Water.  In her "Castle," as she calls it, (she was) surrounded by her chickens, cats, and guinea pigs" (p. 601).

Mr. Corey expected to return to England "some day" and so do I!