I'm currently living in a very dotty world after another injection of triamcinolone into my Rt eye. It's a little nerve racking at the time when all I can see through that eye as the needle goes in is a mass of crystals swirling around in a milky solution. It clears slowly. Very slowly. After a while the Ophthalmologist will cover my left eye and ask "How many fingers am I holding up?" "Six" I'll say jokingly before telling him there's only two. Over a year we've got to know each other fairly well. He'll counter by asking "Will you be going for a run tomorrow?" and I'll refrain from responding with a naughty word.....
|Nothing wrong with their eyes|
So I'm typing this on a spotty white screen with what look like flies dodging around the periphery as I move my head. Birds fly across my window - except they're not birds at all but tiny black crystals that give that impression. By tomorrow or next day the crystals will disperse and I'll be OK for maybe another couple of months when the process will be repeated. I try to make the most of time between. Mostly in my Salomon shades.
|Grassington Bridge route|
Saturday's five mile run to Grassington Bridge began rather ignominiously as I tripped and went crashing to the ground on a stony path before we'd even left the village. In years gone by I'd simply have put my arms out to break the fall but as I've got older my arms seem no longer strong enough to do that.
So it was my ribs and chin that bore the brunt of Saturday's trip. It stunned me briefly but I turned down my wonderful partner's suggestion to go back home and went galloping off through the fields to Grassington. As fell runners do.
|After the fall - galloping off to Grassington|
|Low water by Linton Falls|
I don't know whether wandering tourists think we're mad or just part of the scenery as we dodge past in our shorts and vests. It's difficult to interpret their strange looks! Others engrossed in conversation never even notice us, or anything else in the countryside for that matter. Dog owners regard their little beast as the most important thing in life and runners shouldn't upset them by charging about encouraging them to bite.
|Passing a fallen tree by the riverbank - one of many|
By the time we reached Grassington Bridge only a slight headache reminded me of bashing it on the ground twenty minutes earlier. The river was low and farther along, near the church, sand martins were flying in and out of their holes with bits of nesting material, preparing for their new brood.
|Stepping stones by Hebden Suspension bridge - above water at last|
It was a very pleasant run in warm sunshine and slight breeze. After arriving home I was told, in no uncertain terms, to "Get all that blood and dirt cleared up from your chin". I'd to apologise and explain I hadn't really seen it from where I was standing. A swab of TCP and 600mg of Ibuprofen set everything right. That, and a seat in the garden, wallowing in sunshine with a chiffchaff singing up the lane.
|Passing Loup Scar on the way to Appletreewick......|
On Sunday I woke up a bit stiff but after breakfast was persuaded to go for a six mile run round Appletreewick. It was sunny again and we'd hoped to photograph the last of the anemones in a wood along the road. We were too late. They'd already been ousted by a host of bluebells interspersed with campion and lady's smock. A fair swap!
|.....under trees laden with Spring blossom|
Then, what really made our day, the sight of a swallow flying over Woodhouse farm. The first we'd seen this year. It's amazing how that tiny, happy little bird can lift our spirits and fill our hearts with a strange joy as though it was a harbinger of warmer days ahead and wonderful things to come.
It's difficult to relate that sighting to yesterdays nasty injection and the spotty world I'm living in at present, but I'm sure things will get better when all its friends arrive.