The walk through the woods from Allensford to The Pump House is so congenial, with its ancient trees and the fast flowing river Derwent skipping over old stepping stones randomly placed; making pathways for the curious who want to cross to the other side.
Dense undergrowth, untouched for decades – perhaps housing secrets from the past – wraps around the gnarled bark on the twisted branches that stretch their way into the water. The light slides in dagger like reflections on the deeper sections of the river, where concentric fading ripples dance in the sunshine .
The path continues and opens up to wild meadows swaying in the gentle breeze, as the white houses perched on the distant hills come into view.
Yet there is something else to observe when the daylight is about to fade and dusk beckons.
The old wooden bridge which spans the narrow tributary flowing into the river has been known to disappear when sunset is imminent.
This has been reported on numerous occasions when conscientious visiting walkers feel they have lost their bearings, needing to plodge through the shallow stream to continue on the path through the wood.
When darkness wraps its cloak around the area, many can be heard exclaiming that they were sure a bridge existed the last time they frequented the place.
Obviously these folk have not heard the local legend of the Bridge Bogle; a mischievous sprite who loves to reside by rivers and makes its home under bridges. There have been sightings of these creatures all over the British Isles, yet this particular spectre is extremely hard to spot as he has the ability to make whatever he pleases vanish into thin air. On some occasions he changes the location of his bridge, further confusing the situation and frustrating all those who wish to use it.
Yet he’s better known – instead of relocating it – to making it invisible to whoever wishes to cross the stream.
He has been described by those who have been lucky or unlucky enough to spot him as about 2 feet tall and of a greenish silvery appearance, sporting large pointed ears and what looks like antennae on top his head. There is also evidence of folded wings at his shoulder blades, while he sports long skinny legs ending in sharp toenailed feet.
A fanciful critter, he makes mischief his business and effortlessly taunts those who enter his living space.
Many have declared having their hats removed from their heads or their haversacks snatched away from their back, only to find them discarded further along the path. He does not harm with malice but chooses to taunt those of his liking for his personal merriment. However his playfulness can be somewhat irritating.
I have been there many times but have not yet encountered his mischief, yet who knows when or where or who along that path will become the next victim.
So, be mindful next time you visit that spot, remembering to keep your eyes peeled for the Bogle and the disappearing bridge – I always do.
This is a fictional story by Lorraine Weightman, Illustration by Fr John Bagnall
Become a Contributor at Consett Magazine
