Story
The Poet’s Path
The Poet’s Path winds gently from Skelwith Bridge toward Loughrigg Tarn—a place much loved by William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy. In 1811, he described it as “round, clear and bright as heaven,” standing here, it’s easy to understand why. Sheltered beneath the steep flank of Loughrigg Fell, the tarn holds a perfect mirror to the sky, the trees, and the quiet pull of memory.
In Wordsworth’s day, the whitewashed cottages and adjoining barn would have belonged to a working fell farm, their flock spilling out to graze the surrounding slopes. Today, it’s heartening to still see a few Herdwicks wandering the tarn’s edge—carrying a thread of continuity through the changing seasons.
On calm November days, when the light softens, and the trees wear their final colours, everything is reflected twice over in the glassy water. To stand here, in such stillness, feels like a rare privilege—one moment gifted, the next remembered.
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