No other time of year is as full of promise as Easter time. When March turns into April, the northern counties at last rise from cold and frost, to bathe in renewal and fresh beginnings. Fields are dotted with lambs, those bouncing miniature clowns that double livestock counts overnight. The Lonk sheep twins above enjoyed their first evening sun today.

The bleating of birthing and feeding mothers, nuzzling and urging on their blobs of fur, carries across the Lancashire valleys, while older animals have found renewed energy, running against the sunset along the slopes of Pendle. The evening’s hazy blanket melts into the green meadows, projecting the sun’s glow farther every day, warmer on the skin.

Hares are out at play in the hills of Bowland, munching on new shoots of grass, defending their territories and looking for a potential mate. Each hair and whisker is highlighted against the evening light, continuously drawn by a finest pencil, just like the twisting branches of trees.

Even farmyards seem saturated with colour, as the poultry’s feathers gain in glow and the rooster struts more proudly than ever.

When the sun sets at last, skies are a painted in wonder where trees reach out ever deeper into the colourful currents above.