Then a short while later there’s a knock on the front door and our two friends Ann and Elizabeth from Cockermouth are there in time for an evening meal. They had been on the A66 on the way back from a day out. “Have you seen the light out there?” they asked. “It’s been so amazingly clear as we travelled west. Can’t remember anything like this!”

With this endorsement what could I do but rush up the fellside with the camera before the light had gone? The photo below is taken from on top of the sedum roof of the Belvedere, with the Seldom Seen hamlet in the foreground and the shadows cast by the westering sun picking out the sinews and structure of the Skiddaw massif.

The ospreys have nested on the marshes this year instead of in Dodd wood and their nest is just visible from the Belvedere in the sunlit fields on the other side of the A66. Tell us what you think of the photo!

We sense the loss of vivid hues and fragrance from summer’s flowers amidst a near monochrome world – until the sun comes out. January has seen some cold weather at The Larches, but we’ve had some gorgeous sunny periods too. Seeing the railings in the garden light up one morning (photo below left) and set their mark on the bank behind was a delight.

The photo at the top shows the decking of the Belvedere with the forest behind. It’s a wonderful vantage point for viewing the marshes summer and winter – and for a quiet read. Below centre is an intriguing photo of the zig-zag shadows of the posts and latticed wires cast by the low-risen winter sun. Below right in the new rockery area beside the steps to the Belvedere is a hardy winter plant, Bugle now showing off its purple colours. You wonder why more people are not up here in Cumbria enjoying this feast!

With unprecedented rainfall of over 300 mm in 24 hours last Thursday in Borrowdale, the sheer volume of water pouring off already sodden fells could no longer be contained. Bridges, walls, trees, cars were swept aside as raging waters spread across fields and dykes, raced down streets and wrecked houses in their path.

Most of the national news stories have shown the damage, destruction and despair caused downstream in Cockermouth and Workington, but Keswick and the surrounding villages have had their share of heartache too as the photos below show.

Shops and houses have been flooded, people made homeless, roads closed and at least one bridge over Newlands Beck has collapsed at Little Braithwaite. The wide flood plain of the marshes has taken the brunt of the storm waters and turned Derwentwater and Bassenthwaite into one huge long lake (see Photo above and Nos 3 and 5), but the forecast of more heavy rain this week could bring further misery. Fortunately The Larches and Seldom Seen have been largely unaffected, though there was spillage of surface water onto the road as the gulleys had not been regularly cleared.

Rainfall in the area has been higher than ever recorded anywhere in Britain. Important bridges downstream in Workington and elsewhere have been smashed and inspections of more than 1800 bridges in Cumbria could bring further closures. Inevitably all this raises questions about whether this calamity to hit North West Cumbria is the result of wider worldwide climate change.

I’m heading through the birdsong for Bog House. A pheasant clatters up squawking, where six months ago a deer had leaped from the snow as I passed. There’s a rainbow over Keswick and the river’s full after rain, but it’s the sun that has the best hand this evening, moving round the Derwent Valley amphitheatre to spotlight one by one the big names.

Clough Head is first – a brilliant yellow with a rare quasi-lenticular cloud show above, then it’s Barrow’s turn, the dark green profile of its ridge sharp against the evening sky. Next Catbells – it’s an unusual shape when seen here from the north. The clouds slowly shift while I thread my way through a birch thicket. As I climb the river bank, to NNE below a clouded Skiddaw, Dodd and its woods are slowly turning a golden green and brown. The top is shorn of trees, but the lower sections retain a thick canopy.

This is osprey terrain now and I can see the position of the nest. The parent birds aren’t flying, but a blackbird sings her heart out to me for a full four minutes from the top of a field post. Only as I get back to The Larches at 9.45 does the sun’s spotlight on Dodd click off. What an evening of son et lumière it’s been. Who needs a home entertainment system, when the best show’s outside?

POSTSCRIPT: For a map and description of a longer variant of this circular walk and more photos see Walk No 2 of the Walking and transport section of the site.