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Time in the garden this fine morning and the stock of bigger logs is now sawn into log-length pieces, suitably sized to split when I'm ready.

The plants have been watered early as the forecast promises a warmer day today.   Other garden jobs pass the morning nicely.

After lunch, all Ann and I have to do is decide where to walk the dogs.

Let's face it, they don't mind as long as they get chance for a run out, a play or a sniff and possibly a swim.

The log pile looking tidy once more and some of the grass in the paddock and bottom lawn has been mowed

just to keep the areas that have growth under some sort of control.

The old stump under the oak tree and the flower bed where old boots go to rest.

They have been planted up with bedding plants again this year . . . hopefully it is not too early or too cold at night for them

bedding plants that is . . . not the boots !

We decide to head down to the lake via Low Park today.

The youngster sits in the shade created by his mum . . . full marks to her for standing still long enough to make it worthwhile.

Answer to follow . . .

The old slabs of rock alongside the bottom road shows that it's a really old field boundary.

The tarmac shows they ran out of money when they were re-surfacing the road earlier in the year !

The answer to this weeks quiz from the picture before . . .

Whiteside, Scale Hill and Muncaster . . . I cheated a bit there . . . that's Muncaster House !

Sycamore shinning in the sun light above Park Beck . . .

. . . the stones shining in the sun light below.

It makes for a fine viewpoint on a day like today.

The whole valley is spread out before us.

Click here or on the photo above for a larger, more detailed and annotated panorama of Ann's view from the rock.

Clear visibility is a delight today and we both sit for a while and just enjoy the view.

Rannerdale Valley, looking up Squat Beck towards High Snockrigg.

That's the outlier of Robinson and the fell that looks down on Buttermere Village.

No 22 and offspring keeping a keen eye on our departure as we head off towards the lake.

These two Texel lambs are getting their stocky looks and distinctive head shape that makes their breed so recognisable.

[ To me the Texels are the Ford Transit Van of sheep . . . squat, square and a wheel (leg) at each corner]

Mellbreak Cottage enjoying some late spring sunshine.

The ruin of The Peel on the grassy mound was an old farmstead (circa 1500's) and gives its modern name to the rounded headland fields behind.

The boardwalk and that foot bridge bring us out to the small beach with the pine trees.

Through a gap, the boathouse can be seen on the far side of the lake.

Time for that swim . . . made more enjoyable for Dougal by someone throwing him a stick.

The lakeside wall is almost exposed to its full height.	Even the fence line is starting to dry out.

With the water level down several feet, the fence stands tall in the water.

The other feature you may be able to see is the faint outline of the old boat landing jetty.  I'll try for a better picture sometime.

Hold your cursor over the picture to see my suggested outline.

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Calm waters around the Pump House.

Ripples further out . . . especially around the Loch Crummock (stick chasing) monster.

	- - - o o o - - -     The low water levels are reflected in the low water levels of the feeder streams and rivers.   This is particularly so of the Park Beck feeder seen here.   The same must be true of Loweswater where the river starts its short journey across the valley and exits into Crummock Water.     - - - o o o - - -

On the gated road (the water board track) back to the main road.

An old oak is looking fresher for having a good spread of new-season leaves.

An old gatepost spans three ages of time.	Ironically the one opposite only two.

The taller slate post has holes for timber fence rails from a time before hinged gates.

It has a metal hinge pin from a time it had a gate, and now lies redundant as the track passes by without a gate at all.

The second post opposite is smaller, no holes and is even standing at an oblique angle to the first . . . strange.

Back home to the garden now, it was like this when we left and the view has hardly changed.

Time for tea . . . or perhaps that might even be a G and T, who knows, we're not telling !