Winter on the Moors

08/01/12

Only brief flirtations with winter so far this season.An afternoon on West Nab the closest we have got to her.

Although the surrounding valleys were snow free the Nab had a top coat of white.Peat bogs froze solid and creaked underfoot.That magical December sun snook in under black showery clouds.Her low light giving only an illusion of warmth on patches of orange bracken breaking the snow cover.

The sky black and oily was torn with white grey snow showers moving slowly over the hills.

Nearby a pack of Beagles were keenly hunting the blue mountain hare which I watched escape into familiar boulders.My presence seemed to put off any further pursuit.

Disturbed by baying hounds grouse party popped out of the snow to cackle off to quieter ground.

I'm not used to company up here and was glad when the hunt and it's straggle of followers left for an hour in the pub.

December is an almost silent time.Usually only the daft cackle of grouse or a wind picking up breaks winters emptiness.The soul of the moors heard somewhere in a Curlew or Plovers song is missing and longed for at times.

Yet the light and atmosphere of a late snowy December afternoon on a high empty moor is worth many fine summers days to me.