
During the morning, dark clouds gather, plunge the escarpment into gloom as a flight of fieldfare passes calling overhead. Trees on the horizon are backlit, spooky for the approach of Halloween.
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![]() Sunday morning, delayed as the clocks have gone back an hour. The clean, cold north-west wind has dropped and wind comes from the north-east. A sky of bright blue. Exposed to the wind, the ash trees on Scout Scar are stripped of leaves, laden with bunches of keys. Winter light strikes bare trees and fragments of limestone pavement. During the morning, dark clouds gather, plunge the escarpment into gloom as a flight of fieldfare passes calling overhead. Trees on the horizon are backlit, spooky for the approach of Halloween. Few whitebeam berries this year. Up on the ridge the trees are bare of leaves. In the hanging wood, below the escarpment, the canopy shows tinges of autumn, in muted colours. I follow the fieldfare but do not find them again.
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AuthorJan Wiltshire is a nature writer living in Cumbria. She also explores islands and coast and the wildlife experience. (See Home and My Books.) Archives
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