When I was about to graduate from Eighth Grade, my Aunt Pauline asked what I would like as a celebratory gift. (Aunt Pauline could get away with words like celebratory.) I wasn't as hesitant then, as I am now, in requesting specific items, and I quickly answered I wanted two books: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. I was into classics at the time, convinced that dreamy, thoughtful, literary women (like me) treasured the Bronte's.
A few minutes ago, I walked into the living room and pulled both books off the shelf and, per their "Ex Libris" note, they were gifted in 1958. Wuthering Heights is very near the falling apart stage. It must have been my favorite...I never hesitated to read a book again and again if I really liked it. Jane Eyre cracks when I open it, although I know I read it at least once. The fact that it is so seemingly untouched makes me think I should choose it as our Book Club book in June. That may inspire a mutiny, but I'm going to try it anyway.
On this late July morning, our Road Scholar itinerary states that we will drive to Haworth, arriving about 11:00 a.m. At that point we have two choices: We can visit the "Bronte" Church and woolen museum or we can participate in a 1.5 mile walk on the moors. There is no doubt that I will choose the moors. It is the "Bronte" thing to do...particularly in honor of Emily who, we know, spent hours and hours wandering that vast grassland. I believe it's commonly believed that the moors surrounding Haworth were her setting for Wuthering Heights.
At this point, we're just walking out from Haworth. We're navigating an uneven stone path that is rising gently toward the moors. Our Peter is leading us, as well as providing entertaining tales of this area and what sets it apart from other rural spots in England.
Even though this is Heather Moorland, in my opinion, it is not a particularly pretty landscape, but I was expecting that. Depending on your imagination, I think the moors can match whatever your mood, at the time, might be. And that, perhaps is why they remind me so much of the high-plains of Southwest Kansas...although they are definitely more green. People who live on or near the high-plains grow up with distant horizons that spread from here to way past there. The sky is immense and the colors range from brilliant blue, to blood red, to frightening roiling black. Every day is different and, for those who love it, the absence of trees is just what they like. I've lived in the middle of those plains, but I need my trees. Thus, I'm actually surprised during this walk at the sense of openness and freedom and fresh air and space to twirl and run and laugh out loud.
This is a pretty day for us--it's not raining, it's not terribly windy (although the moors are known for wind), but the sky is gray. Heather moorland, despite its lovely purple isn't a colorful place. It's more a place of shades...a little lighter here and darker there, all nicely blended together.
What's this? There seem to be a few scattered about. Yes, it is a book, not really carelessly tossed aside as it seems, but part of a larger installation placed as a memorial to Charlotte, Emily, Branwell and Anne. Three are buried in the family plot in Haworth while the fourth, Anne, was buried in Scarborough. More from necessity, I believe, than choice. They were so young...
The walk on the moors was wonderful and I'll always treasure that time. But, lunch is beckoning, and we walk back into Haworth to meet the rest of our group at the Old White Lion. Lunch is Cottage Pie and we ate every morsel. Delicious!
We spent the rest of the afternoon touring the Bronte Parsonage Museum...not to be missed if you're a Bronte fan. It's a tiny house by our American standards, but lovely and intimate. The tour is self-guided, so look and read and wander to your heart's content. The dining room was my favorite as that is where the four children would gather to do their writing. They read their work to each other as they worked and collaborated on their little plays and performances and poems. It does sound idyllic, but life in the mid-1800s was a serious affair. Lack of today's medical care and sanitation did not make for long and happy lives, and the Bronte's seem particularly star-crossed.
I visited this area in the late 1950s. At the time, I was enchanted with the Bronte's, and felt that I was honored to have the chance to be there. I loved the moors, brooding and romantic. Later in my life I lived on the Canadian prairies, which reminded me of this scenery.What a treat to see your photos!
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