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Swinsty Reservoir glittered in the sunshine, runners lolloped in from the surrounding woods, dogs decanted from car boots, fishermen strode out for the rainbow trout and a grebe, also fishing, dived and swum underwater for half a minute. After a month and a half almost rainless the water was low but the reservoirs here don’t look bad with their skirts of beach, and on these ducks congregated. All this before we left the carpark

New benches have a relaxed angle, the summer was loosing its grip, the horsechestnut leaves each a kaleidoscope of colour. Conkers crunched on the tracks that climb up and away from the water to bring sight of a horizon scattered with white balls, the Menwith Hill eavesdropping station.

I hope Yorkshire Water intercept this walk because the last time I wrote something nice about them they sent me a most elegant glass jug, were that other landowners gave me presents.

Bindertwine is stuff to irritate the walker when it’s knotted around gates but at Scow Hall be delighted by bindertwine craft in the form of woven windbreaks on a barn. And anyone irritated by the increasing use of rural wind power for farms and such might be swayed by the effective looking generator at the next big house.

Following this, a splendid hall, and next a ruined ‘fortlet’ named John of Gaunt’s Castle. This man, more popular in Lancashire, married his mistress to produce the Tudors.

Were it a wet winter day, with the reservoirs brimming, one might find the dark imagery stacking up - John of Gaunt, his brother the Black Prince, the proximate ‘dark satanic mills’ where the water is piped. But it wasn’t miserable, the reservoir that the castle overlooked is naturalistic, its fringe vegetation lush, and from Beavers Dyke the course runs narrow between folds of conifer. If you want a sandwich stop use the bench after the dyke.

One treads more history as the path follows the visible line of earthworks. For geologists there is a rock profile under sycamore roots of the brick-sized sandstone. And that’s what the drystone walls close by are laid with, whereas at Swinsty Reservoir they are smartly dressed and on the land between much are boulder made, lumpen and crude.

With about a mile to go we happened on the Sun Inn, here there are guard geese that noisily admonish from behind a wall and clearly outgun and infuriate the pub’s ancient terrier. And lastly Swinsty Woods where a heron stalked the shallows.