Lockdown in the gorgeous Ribble Valley nudged us to open our eyes to what was going on outside our doorstep. We’ve come across fox spur
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Lockdown in the gorgeous Ribble Valley nudged us to open our eyes to what was going on outside our doorstep. We’ve come across fox spur
Greens mixed with sunshine sprout and grow in the woods, bold grasses, new lichen, fresh leaves move in the breeze. Birdsong accompanies the butterflies dance
When the mists roll in to take us on a journey through a land newly imagined, we’re like a child seeking to escape a dream,
When golden strands are threaded through every hue of green or red and the drystone walls appear like scraped old leather at sunset, autumn has
The fertile fields of May, that sunlight bouncing on bright green grass and trees adorned with their brand-new frocks. The Hawthornes are still in their
A misty morning and a pheasant appears from the gloom, a croaking feathered prancer startling me and him. The mist fades and light reveals the
Last night’s snow rests frozen over the Ribble Valley under a lilac dawn. As diamonds and sapphire enhance each other’s sparkle and depth, a blue
Frost’s crystal chimes on grass and twig, glazed Hawthorn berries in icy wreath on gnarled trees, the sun blowing the mists down the fell, winter’s
Every autumn, at Martin mere near Burscough in Lancashire, the skies fill with thousands of wings of birds who choose the protected wetlands at the
We’ve all been there, the almost shot. My advice: delete it. Too often, we go places hoping to capture a lasting image of a well-known