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Harvest of Being
Twelve Apostles stone circle In September the moors will still bear their crown of heather, veiled in autumn mists and the promise of gold. The moors around Ilkley are my heart’s home, a place that is,...
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Where the heart is…
I left Sheffield a few minutes after six this morning, heading south. That was the plan, anyway. The trouble is that to do that I have to first drive over the top of the moors and the heather is in...
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Turn around
I was online the other day and came across an article by one of my favourite photographers, Rick Braveheart, in which he advises that when you stop to take a photograph you do not simply focus on what...
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Heather in the blood
Tomorrow I head north for the Harvest of Being weekend on the moors of Yorkshire, where I take the thoughts of at least one dear friend also ‘in exile’ in the south and instructions to kiss the earth...
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A Yorkshire poet
On A Yorkshire Moor Over a hill the west wind loves, There lies a quiet glen, Far away from the roaring world, Far from the strife of men ; Out to the south a lordly wall Reared by no human hands, A...
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Rombald’s moor – my moor
Tall the cliffs of stone That mark the entry to my heart’s domain, Wild and empty in its vastness The solitude of living earth. The wind lifts the heart And bears it through the storm To where the...
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“Find the path and stay on it…”
We followed the stone pavement. To quote one of the characters from Sword of Destiny, it looks “like a gurt, ‘ungry worm” as it snakes across the moors. Stone or not, it is out of place, though...
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Towards parting
We left the stone circle in lighthearted mood. The walkers we met all seemed to be smiling broadly… and that included the ones who hadn’t witnessed our antics up there. The grouse have a very peculiar...
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The Wilderness, by Kathleen
This poem was read by one of our Companions, in the shadow of an ancient altar, just before we left the moors. For me it was perfect. The Wilderness by Kathleen Raine I came too late to the hills: they...
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Forgotten stones
I still had an hour to spare by the time I reached the little crossroads that leads up towards Curbar Gap. There is a parking spot there where I can waste an hour with ease and I often do so. On one...
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Northern Light
In a few days I run northwards again for the monthly meeting of the Silent Eye. Since the birth of the school I have been blessed with the opportunity to point the car northwards every few weeks....
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Map-reading…or not…
It is believed that the human eye can distinguish more shades of green than any other colour. Walking across the moors after sunshine and heavy rain, it would be impossible to count the different...
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Wandering stones
Sunday morning the skies weren’t so clear. We had work to do, of course, but we were going out too. We had every intention of finding Barbrook III… honestly we did… but then again, there was the...
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A predictable detour…
I decided that I would be very good and leave Sheffield by the usual route. I would not take the road we had taken the day before. No. I had no excuse. After all, it would lead me five miles or so in...
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