Skylark April 2015 ‘Have you heard skylark yet?’ I asked a local man I know as I met him heading off Scout Scar. He had not, but he had found a glove he knew to be mine and had secured it on the gatepost by the stile leading to the escarpment. In winter weather I shove them in a pocket when I’m taking photographs. Not always securely. I hurried by tussocks of snowy grasses, spotted a black glove and forgot all about it the moment the skylark sang. The joy of it. Photographing skylark is a challenge and today I came home simply with the song in my heart.
I walked to the cairn on Cunswick Fell, and back again, and again, listening to skylark. The distant fells gleamed in sunlit snow and patches lingered in tussocks of blue moor grass. Its steel blue flowers come early, but Easter is early this year, so no sign yet.
I walked to the cairn on Cunswick Fell, and back again, and again, listening to skylark. The distant fells gleamed in sunlit snow and patches lingered in tussocks of blue moor grass. Its steel blue flowers come early, but Easter is early this year, so no sign yet.
On Cunswick Fell, looking to the north and west to the Lake District Fells.
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