Remember the days. I was 13 years old. Took a ride down Howick Cross Lane to the river. Ships were passing in the high tide to Preston Dock. Poop, poop! on the ship's horn as they passed us. We waved back. It was a long ride along the banks to the end of the river at the Douglas. The Asland lamp stood proud. We were at the end of the world. Silence. Nothing. Shear bliss. Then a Curlew cried overhead. Next, a Skylark! If you ever want to be away from anything and everything, take a walk along the Ribble westwards from Howick Cross Lane.
Peace.