My brother returned to Australia this week, and I drove him to Manchester Airport. On the way back, I stopped at Gisburn, where I have often visited the post office, which used to be a very useful and well stocked shop. Not any more. The only bit of it that is functional is the post office counter. I only wanted some milk, so I had to drive on and stop at another little shop further down the road and that too had changed. It is very sad to see these lovely and useful small shops closing. I do shop at the supermarket in town, but I also try very
hard to buy locally most of the time.

The Airedale Beagles came to the pub where I work for breakfast, before setting off for what would have been a very wet day out. I used to police a pack of beagles, and remember watching these super, happy little dogs racing across the fields. I don't hunt myself, but it is
a country tradition I am sad to see go. I went out to see the beagles in their truck. They were keen and ready to go. Certain breeds of dogs need to work, and are bred for it. I'm just wondering what mine were bred for, as my two collies seem just as keen to lie in front of the fire in the cold weather as they are to round up the sheep, geese and ducks. A dog has to do what a dog has to do.

The other morning it was so cold that it was almost freezing. A few years ago, I was walking back from a caving trip on Casterton Fell, and I glanced up at the hills to see them covered in snow. That was early October. Changing in the bitter cold after a wet caving trip tends to be a hurried affair, but I shall never forget how beautiful it was. By the morning the snow had gone.

Now the summer is over, the Buckden Singers have resumed. Due to popular request we repeated the concert we did at Hubberholme. Advertised as "Songs for a Summer Evening", we held the concert at St Margaret Clitherow Roman Catholic Church at Threshfield. The rain was pelting down with a vengeance, and there were floods on the roads. The river was a white tumultuous mass at Threshfield Bridge and, as we arrived to warm up, the Fell Rescue vehicle rushed past us on its way to some emergency. I take my hat off to those rescuers, to turn out on such a night.

We did not have a massive audience, but those who turned out in such foul weather did seem to enjoy it. We finished with Vivaldi's Gloria, (one of my favourite pieces) which was a wonderful end to a good evening. Driving home up the hill, the rain was coming sideways, and visibility was almost none. The more sensible of my sheep had taken refuge in the barn, and the chickens were huddled in the warm straw. The dogs reluctantly went out but were back within seconds, and I could hardly blame them. I stoked the fires up, hung up my wet coat and warmed up.

Once again the ground is sodden and the well is overflowing. It looks like winter is fast approaching. I just hope we have some autumn.