Iconic Kinder plateauDark glowering peaks of granite stone
Frown down on the melancholy land.
The mist blows in from distant shores
And sits forlornly on the giants shoulders.
The mountain plays hide and seek from swirling clouds
Hiding its macabre beauty, in a sombre cloak.
How different from the balmy summer days
When the sun basks the plateau in golden light,
Catching the purple glow of heather in all it’s magisterially splendour
A mountain where trampling boots made history
Where freedom to roam was won up on high
The mass trespass sweeping aside, decades of pious rule.
A treasure now for posterity, to keep and cherish
A burden upon the mantle of the National Trust.
As the clouds unfurl, it reveals a teardrop on the cheek of Kinder
Mermaids pool, a tear lamenting the waning of former glories
Kinder a fast decaying wasteland, a mocking travesty of once proud bog moorland
But now only endless hags of peat, and dark unforgiving groughs.
The bane of walkers, hands clutching to their lifeline ‘the compass’.
And yet here, still, where the white hare coarses
Where swoops and glides the curlew and the plover
Where creeps the spongy sphagnum
The bubbling stream that is Kinder river, which cascades over the downfall
Only to be thrown back on high by unseen giant hands, the upside down waterfall.
Here amongst the tormented rock, twisted into evocative shapes.
The hardy strength of bilberry, and crowberry, which clings tenaciously to life
Here where tranquillity, is found in the isolation and solitude
The majestic beauty of a mountain that can still define
The inspiration and aspirations of all who visit
‘Kinder’ the heart and soul of our Peak District
Steve "Blade" Lindop
Estate Team Supervisor
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