Beethoven 7

We spent Sundays hiking in the countryside.

During the car ride, I always looked forward to the moment when the third movement of Beethoven’s Seventh symphony (the scherzo and trio) would burst out over the car speakers, the opening announcing itself like a fanfare, the rises and falls in the music matching the mounts and vales of the Lancashire/Yorkshire countryside.

War memorials. Village church clocks. Quarries stretching out at the bottom of winding roads. Pieces of machinery humming over the stillness as we climbed hills.

We walked in all weather conditions, our boots tramping in mud when it rained, our cagoules protecting us against Pennine winds. Often on a Sunday, we would walk about seven or eight miles, stopping for a sandwich lunch on the trail.