There’s been a lot of rain this week. Quite a lot of it fell on my day off, when I went for a walk by a river. I snatched some photos on my phone…
The roads were wet and the river was full. Brown, muddy water, moving much too quickly for my liking.
Bowed and broken branches.
Spring is not here yet. Not here. Not quite.
I ventured out yesterday into the Peak District. It rained. And rained. So much so that I couldn’t risk using my camera. I took a few sneaky shots with my phone though!
Late afternoon in the Peak District.
Always a favourite place to stop, look, and just breathe. Sheep, deer, constantly changing light…
It was beautiful in the Peak District this afternoon. Beautiful but cold. No flowers, no birdsong. Yet.
I love the layers of this landscape: the way it repays closer scrutiny. The shadows, the tree, the puddles. The road; the obvious. Moving out into the open. The new fence and the older gateposts. Then, the abandoned gatepost in the field to the left. Memories, in the land, of older boundaries and routes. Dark, the dotted line of the molehills, mapping a subterranean system older than the farmland above it.
Fading, changing, working. In the far distance, the cold aloofness of the hills.