Rising: poetry in place

Yesterday was one of those autumn days when golds, reds and greens become dazzling against a bright sky. Glencoyne Woodland was dreamy – sunlight making the canopies of ash, oak and sycamore leaves a play of translucent colour. Once again the weather forecast was spot on, and our choice of day to hang the orange… Read More

Waiting for the stars

When the sun has dipped below the western horizon but it’s not yet dark all around is velvetine. The fells become a felted mesh of colours: browned bracken; grass made luminous green by the simmering light; crags greyed and subdued now there are no certain shadows, their harshness is hidden by the half-dim; trees lose… Read More