Flowers on Friday ... and a Postcard from Muncaster Castle

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I've been wanting to visit Muncaster Castle for ages, but it's quite a distance away, on the western coast of Cumbria. Anyway, last week, I finally managed to get there, because I was doing the driving!

And, my goodness, it is a long. long way but well worth the effort.

It's one of those lovely old English places which is still a home. There are family photographs displayed alongside jumbled ancient treasures and the audio guide was made by the family themselves. It's not slick like some other places you visit from time to time, and it all has a warm fuzzy feel about it. The castle is also reputedly one of the most haunted places in Britain, but we didn't feel any ghostly vibes in the slightest, and the great hall had the most welcome log fire to warm us on another cold day.

Outside, there are acres and acres of beautiful gardens filled with rhododendrons right now. These photographs don't convey the sheer scale of them.

From the terrace there are the most spectacular views of the Esk valley. Just stunning!

Muncaster is also the home of the World Owl Trust bird sanctuary, and we saw some beautiful specimens. They are all too damaged to live out in the wild, and seem to be very happy here.

In the afternoon there was a display of some of the owls, and we got a closer glimpse of a few of them.

Later still, we noticed a strange sight in the nearby trees as many herons were sitting like statues in the branches. I counted fourteen in one tree alone. We found out that they were waiting to be fed.

We watched them for over ten minutes as we waited to see what was going to happen, and they barely moved. They were all facing in the same direction .... then on the dot of four o'clock a keeper came along with a large bucket of fish. The air was filled with a whoosh as the herons swooped down and made short work of the meal.

Sad to say, there were a few squabbles amongst them as they fought over the scraps. Within a few seconds the fish was gone and so were the herons. It was quite a sight!

As we were leaving, an old man wearing a scruffy fleece jacket came up and thanked us for coming. It turns out he was the owner himself, Patrick Gordon Duff Pennington. He had a lovely chat with us. Amongst other things, he told us that before the first world war there were 32 gardeners working in the grounds. Now there are only two .... and himself. He was 83! He was utterly charming and happily agreed to pose for a photograph with my parents. It made their day.