Sue Woodcock: On the trail of a troll with my intrepid dogs

By the time we reached the bottom the dogs realised this was an interesting walk. Of course, the moment they met the stream they were in it, lying down in the nice cool water and then standing next to me and shaking vigorously. I quite appreciated the cool shower and we moved on upstream. I heard the first cuckoo of the year (for me) as we passed some trees and I saw a delight of wild flowers in the grass. Cinquefoil, the deep blue of bugle, interspersed with daisies an occasional buttercup, speedwell and some spotted orchids. There were campion as well and the usual dandelions and the little white flower I know as allseed.

I climbed up the stream bed, listening to it gurgling under the rocks and appearing in the odd, deep pool and hearing the calls of birds on the cliff face and overhead. I looked at a few shallow cave entrances before emerging up onto the moor with its spoil heaps and the sun baking down.

I was rather disappointed I had not met the fabled troll or the barguest said to haunt the place. There is an eerie feel and I was almost aware that I was being watched, but not unpleasantly.

On my way back I called in a hostelry at Appletreewick before stopping off at Hebden. Nelson lives in Hebden and assumed he was getting out and I had to

chase him up the road, to the amusement of passers by.

A couple of days before I had gone up the dale to clip four of my friend's sheep who she had from me last year as lambs. Two are very tame and happily submitted, relieved to be cooler. The other two were not having any of it. Could we catch them? Of course we couldn't. We are going back to ambush them. I have a cunning plan.

I went down to the choir practice in the village and, as I was early, sat in the square watching the world go by. It was a balmy evening and I went to talk to a very handsome Jack Russell and got chatting to the owner. And a lovely lady asked if she could take a photo and we got chatting too. She and her family were on holiday from East Yorkshire and avid readers of the Yorkshire Post.

They came to see me the next evening bearing gifts and, when I was showing them round, I noticed one of the turkey hens that I had been unable to find for weeks, with a whole following of the most adorable turkey chicks which I shall call the Turklets.

I was watching her hiding from me when I saw the other turkey with her brood – quite a few turklets but also several pheasant chicks which she had either hatched or adopted.

I got someone in to shear my own sheep. I helped, and with a bucket of feed and his dog Lucy we finally got them all in. It took some of the lambs a while to recognise their mothers but after standing and yelling for a while they found them.

A number of butterflies have hatched – peacock butterflies, tortoiseshells and of course cabbage whites. As I have no garden or cabbages they must be eating something, but it is not obvious what. Down in the mire it is cooler and there is a host of flies and bugs. Some friends came to cull rabbits early one morning when a thick mist lay like a white carpet in the valley with hilltops like islands.

All the goats came out to greet them and the cockerel shouted to his ladies to announce the start of day. The guinea fowl were chattering from the roof and the geese patrolled the fields. The newly shorn sheep were sitting quietly with their lambs before the heat of the day. This is a lovely location.

CW 12/6/10