Through August’s intermittent heat, we watched the mowing and baling of a succession of Erringden meadows. At the beginning of the month, we set off to climb through Callis Wood in the morning to see Far Meadow being mown, but were detained for a while at Rawdon Lock’s wide winding hole by a strange spectacle. … Continue reading A Tranced Glowing Land →

A maelstrom of swifts swept us into July. The Stubbing Bridge is a favourite spot of theirs to feed, charging up and down the canyon made by the deep river walls before either darting under the bridge’s arch or launching over its parapet to scythe past the ears of anyone who happens to be passing. … Continue reading A High Beckoning Horizon →

We took our chances among the incessant June showers to pay our first visit to Eagle Crag. We have long craned our necks up from the bus to wonder how we would ever reach this high looming outcrop, the upthrusting point of a stone blade that has impaled the impossibly steep hillside from behind. Once … Continue reading A Low Strong Sun →

May is bluebell month; we waded through their torrents spilling down through the ancient woods on the way to school in the morning, and we deeply breathed in their scent rising on the warm air on the way home. When we judged they were at their peak, when there were barely any more buds to … Continue reading A Flawless Blue Morning →

As the April days lengthened, we stretched our legs with a 10-mile yomp across the moors; after stocking up on cakes and sweets at May’s Shop, we followed faint paths among the tawny grasses, from the bony finger of Reaps Cross to the hulking ruin of Raistrick Greave. Abandoned by the young Mitchell and Stansfield … Continue reading A Wide Singing Sky →

March began with a dusk snowfall, but it only reached down from the moorland edge to the high pastures and no further, with the deep valley’s woods, wreathed in a slow drifting fog, oblivious to what was happening above them. But we stayed attentive, our month one of watching and listening and hunting for signs … Continue reading A Slow Drifting Fog →

We squelched and slid through the February mud in the Worth Valley, where we uncharacteristically followed signposts and clutched a walk leaflet to guide ourselves round the Railway Children Walk, a tour of the shooting locations of one of our favourite films. As we passed Three Chimneys we could just imagine Bobbie, Phyllis and Peter … Continue reading A Vivid Winter Light →

We began January with our traditional new year expedition to the source of a river, Crimsworth Dean Beck this time. From a morning of deep frosted shadows in the naked woods to a quiet mulberry dusk in the high moors, we passed through a Peter Brook painting at Outwood, skimmed slim stones beside Grain Water … Continue reading A Quiet Mulberry Dusk →

Here we are again, my boy, like so many times before, emerging from the frosty morning shadows of the deep valley and its woods, out and up into golden morning sun, with the promise of a beautiful, memorable day before us. We’ve certainly picked a fine day for our quest to follow Crimsworth Dean Beck … Continue reading Even the Longest Journey →

How can philosophy help deepen and enrich our understanding and appreciation of landscape? By way of an answer, I will offer reflection on three philosophical questions we can ask of any place or landscape: What is the narrative of this place? What is this landscape’s moral character? How is this place faring? I hope to … Continue reading Philosophy of Landscape: Narrative, Ethics, Welfare →