I’ve always been fascinated by water, that marvellous molecule that make life on this planet possible. I’ve seen oceans, lakes, glaciers rivers and streams. I’ve seen rain fall on several continents and what happens when it doesn’t. I’ve drunk it every day of my life, or something made with it. I’ve used it in speech therapy and ministry and ‘Living Wet’ is my motto. However a drip running down the back of your neck on a damp morning’s walk is not the most exhilarating form of water.
Gilsland claims to be the wettest place in the Roman Empire. I’m not arguing. However, it does also win the award for ‘top toilet’.
It must be quite wet because the trail is on a temporary diversion here since a flood demolished a foot bridge. It means a stop for hot chocolate at the village cafe cum shop. I am now in Cumbria.
On the whole the weather dried up for the rest of the day, the wind coming and going. There was plenty of wall left until Hare Hill where I saw the last of it. Strangely it was also the highest remaining section, or so an excited family explained to me before they hurried on east to see some more.
There were puddles here and there and the odd little stream or brook taking its time amongst trees and stones. A few more drops fell from the sky just before the turning to Lanercost where the 12th century Priory was a welcome sight.

Trying to Live Wet,
I give thanks for these marvellous molecules,
Mindful that I do not dissolve before time.
As the rain waters the earth,
Gathers in streams and rivers,
and travels to the oceans,
There to rise once more in the clouds
May I also rise
On the Last Day.