Old Cheviot on the Border Ridge

YC headed out to the border ridge today. As he stood admiring the view from The Street, he spotted an old character ambling along the path. The figure looked so old and care-worn that YC thought it might be The Ancient of Days, who is said to visit each fellrunner in their hour of need. But on closer inspection, YC noted that the figure wasn't pavilioned in splendour or girded with praise (it had a bumbag instead). It turned out to be Old Cheviot, making his way leisurely from Yearning Saddle hut to Windy Gyle. OC reported that the skylarks were singing on Lamb Hill, the wheatears on the wing at Yearning Hall, and a pair of goldfinches aflight at Rowhope. And with that brief word, OC urged his aged bones into action once more, and trundled onwards to a well-earned cup of tea (or possibly something stronger).

Old Cheviot went that way...