One of my favorite discoveries in Haworth was the dog pond on the moors. Walking 2.5 miles to Bronte Falls was a lot of fun. It gave me a sense of what the Bronte sisters life was like, more than exhibits or simply seeing can. This gets back to this passive/active thing I’ve been noticing on this trip. Seeing and listening is all well and good, I’ve picked up on some valuable information, but out on the moors I was able to pretend I was a Bronte, or in transit to Wuthering Heights more realistically. The area wasn’t wild, there were sheep pastures along much of the walk. The point was the only way to get there was to walk–there were no other options. This lack of choice in choosing to go to the falls was what connected me to a different era. Getting tired out from the walk gave me some respect for the time where technology hadn’t created the ease of living that we have today.

Seeing the dog pond, and hearing that that area of the moors was left alone precisely because of dogs and their companions left me excited. A park didn’t get erected in the middle of a populated area as an artificial recreation of walking space. No, the beautiful countryside simply got left alone so that people could CONTINUE to enjoy it. There was no break with the past then an attempt to go back, to return, to re-create.

Of course, like in the South, the North still has that urge to re-create the past, with its museums and historic sites. However, the difference in space between London and Haworth means that London has parks, while Haworth has untouched moors.

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