Peter and Ravenglass, Continued.

Peter and Ravenglass, originally uploaded by Phoole.

(From my paper journal 9 June 2007)

So, Peter! He asked, "All right if I take you on a tour of Ravenglass? Won't take five minutes."

And right he was. Ravenglass is but three streets and 300 people. The tide had gone out of the bay, and deposited three sailboats at funny leaning angles in the sand, to sit forlornly waiting for the water to come back.

We first passed the newspaper office, the Evening-Star, and Peter said, "We must do a photo with the headline, if you please," and first he took a photo of me beside the little metal sign-board, and then Jenny kindly stepped in and snapped us together. That photograph means worlds to me.

As we turned to stroll together down the lane, an extremely perfect calico cat (tortoiseshell, really) jumped up on a low stone wall and lovingly nuzzled Jenny's hand, purring loudly.

It was too perfect, and it felt very unreal and lovely all at once.

Everyone in Ravenglass knows Peter, but what I find even more precious is that Peter knows everyone in Ravenglass. Peter pointed out to us the Ratty Arms, the chief pub in Ravengalss and likely the public house where Tom Fool rustled up a gang of toughs and ruffians to retake an area convent which had lately been "nationalized" and returned to to the nuns who had lived there previously. And he told us about and showed us "La'al Ratty," the narrow-gauge steam and diesel line running from Ravenglass to Eskdale; the crowd at the station when we arrived had naught to do with us, but rather was there to ride a special restored old steam train that happened to be in town.