One reason our farm was cheap to buy is the location. It is on a hill overlooking the city of Bradford, which is not a popular city to live despite the proximity of the Dales, the Pennines, major cities and the Asian restaurants. If our post code had been HX for Halifax which is a step away then the price would have been more. The other price depressing factor was that our land also has the electricity wires running straight over the fields. We receive £9 a year for this priviledge from the National Grid.
I haven't become depressed since moving here as one friend informed me was inevitable, neither have I developed cancer (although it is early days yet having lived here for only 5 and a half years). The worst thing about them is the noise the wires make if the wind is blowing hard from the west. They howl and keep me awake. Kathy Earnshaw's howls fade into insignificance in comparison. In mist they spit and hiss.
I don't see them most of the time. But sometimes they provide interest like last week when men in little cradles were suspended above me as they checked their viability. And a man comes to see if our trees need to be lopped if they grow too close to them ... it will be an acheivement for us when this happens! The first visit from National Grid for this purpose made me laugh, as if our weedy little trees were anywhere near his lines! But the last visit, he said they were getting there and he'd have to monitor them more closely. Yippee!
Anyway, this picture was taken on Monday evening. Shows some beauty to the monsters that tramp across our view.
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