The sense of trepidation we felt when we climbed over the stile and set off towards Alston along the south bank of the river Nent proved to be ill-founded: the hay meadow was as beautiful as it had been on our last visit, more than a decade ago. More so, perhaps, because the spotted orchids, standing rigidly upright among swaying fescues, crested dog's tail and Yorkshire fog grasses, were too numerous to count. Purple shaving-brush heads of melancholy thistle marked the hollows in the meadow. Gullies, in which water trickled down towards the river, were traced by a pink ribbon of ragged robin that flowed into the white foam of meadowsweet, where they broadened into boggy deltas.
But the main purpose of our visit was to look for grass of Parnassus, the county flower of Cumberland, which I'd last seen growing near the water's edge. After several wet winters, it might have been swept away when the river rose, but it was still there in abundance. The flower buds, like milky pearls held in the green clasp of its pointed green sepals, held aloft on a four-inch stalk, were still closed.
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