I know I am lucky enough to live in one of the most beautiful areas of Britain, and I don't have to go far from my home to find it, but if you follow the River Wharfe back towards its source from my home, you will travel through breathtaking countryside and arrive at Hubberholme. I just love the little bridge which crosses the river, which at this point is very small, and on one side is the George Inn serving drink and food to the living, and on the other side is Hubberholme Church, one of the prettiest dales' churches you could find. I love the smell of "oldness" and the little mice carved on the furniture there. You can read a little about this via the links above.
I cover with love the chattering waters of the Wharfe.
I snuggle and nestle beneath the high rising fells.
My visitors are the walkers, dogs – lovers of country life.
My residents are squabbling ducks, the trees and seasons.
At either end of my being lie nourishment for mankind:
The one bank nourishes the soul and the other the body,
Both striving to serve essential requirements of human life
In the world in which we live and the world beyond.
One side of my bridge cradles the bones of the sleeping dead,
Whilst the other sustains those with living hunger and thirst.
My stone arch connects the two – the living and the dead.
I am the convenient conveyer between these two.
I lie beneath the rain-laden clouds that enshroud my being
I am caressed in summer by branches of green leaved trees.
I am chilled by winter winds and warmed by summer sunshine;
I watch migrating birds pass and hear cries of newborn lambs.
I cover with love the rippling waters of the Wharfe -
Baby young, trickling, tickling a pebble-bellied bed.
I watch my world with joy, far from the city hubbub
Ensconsed in a natural world of stunning splendour.
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