Bird's eye view

I went up Cusop Hill today with Sally and the dogs.
Years ago, I'd gone up to Capodolwyn, the white cottage all alone on the hill, with my husband. Back then, the last tenant had only recently moved out, and anyone could have moved straight in quite comfortably. Sadly, the windows now have lost their glass, and are all boarded up, and the doors are boarded over too. The roof is still mostly sound, so it could be brought back from the brink of dereliction. The views are amazing - right along the Wye valley, and high enough to look down on the RAF jets that fly here regularly.
We went higher, and I got to the top of Cusop Hill for the first time ever. It's fairly bleak sheep pasture up there, with small old quarries dotted about. There were larks everywhere, singing. We found a little pool, and the dogs ran in and out, and even swam (Maudie fell in, but she just paddled round to where she could scramble out, shook herself, and she was fine). From the edge of the hill, we could see up and down the Wye valley, with Hay laid out below us, and the pipeline snaking across the countryside, looping up Cusop Dingle, and heading off towards Glasbury.
Sally took me down to Hardwicke after that, and we spent a highly enjoyable afternoon building a bonfire, with the dogs mooching about the garden. As I type this now, Islay and Alfie are semi-comatose, one on each settee.
Tomorrow, we plan to do it all again.