The Lake District

Can you picture a place where the water is so still it looks like a mirror for the sky? Tall, green mountains stand watch all around, and fluffy white sheep nibble on the grass. A cool breeze whispers through the valleys, making tiny ripples on the water. Hello. I am the Lake District. I wasn't always like this. A very, very long time ago, around 15,000 years ago, giant rivers of ice called glaciers moved slowly across the land. They were so strong that they carved deep, long valleys into me. When the world warmed up and the ice melted, these valleys filled up with fresh rainwater. That is how my sixteen beautiful, sparkling lakes were born. They are all tucked between my sleepy, rolling mountains, waiting for the sun to make them shine.

For hundreds and hundreds of years, people have called my green valleys home. Long ago, brave explorers called Vikings sailed to my shores around the 9th century. They gave names to many of my mountains and villages—names that people still use today. I have always loved having people here, but some of my visitors were extra special because they told wonderful stories about me. A kind man named William Wordsworth used to walk my paths. He loved my bright yellow flowers so much that in 1804, he wrote a famous poem about my cheerful daffodils, saying they were 'fluttering and dancing in the breeze.' Later, another amazing person came to live with me. Her name was Beatrix Potter, and she was a wonderful author and artist. She loved me so much that on July 15th, 1905, she bought a little farm here called Hill Top. She would sit in her garden and paint beautiful pictures of my flowers, stone walls, and all the cute animals. Those paintings became the pictures in her famous books about a mischievous bunny named Peter Rabbit and his friends. I became the home of Jemima Puddle-Duck and Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle.

Because so many people loved my sparkling waters and green hills, they wanted to make sure I would stay beautiful forever. So, they all agreed to give me a very important job. On May 9th, 1951, I officially became a National Park. That’s like a special promise to protect me, keeping my lakes clean and my mountains safe for everyone to enjoy. Today, families come from all over the world to visit. Children hike on the very same paths where poets once walked. They sail little boats on my waters, and their happy laughter echoes across the valleys. Some children sit on my grassy banks with sketchbooks, drawing pictures of my scenery, just like Beatrix Potter did so long ago. It makes my heart feel full. And on July 9th, 2017, I received another special honor. I was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which means I am a treasure for the whole world. I will always be here, ready to share my beauty and inspire a new adventure in you.