Thursday was relentless rain and darkness. This morning was a November blaze with strong light on bracken, sedge and rush. How simple and stylish the barn with its larchwood door and its gathered stone, with a backdrop of scree and wooded crags.
Geese were calling, flying high, glinting white, skeins strung out against the blue.
Accompanied by his two dogs, farmer Ivan Dickinson stopped his quad bike to chat. He had been checking that the Brockstones ‘ sheep haven’t shifted because of the rain: they’ll come down if it’s heavy.’ He had to move his male lambs from flooded pastures this week. Long Lane was a splash. Fieldfare erupted from a dark hawthorn and a mistle thrush defended his holly berries and warned them off. The light was gone long before mid-day so I was glad I had set out early.