It’s always much more than ‘just a card’ isn’t it? It’s sending a thought out to someone and showing them that you care.
My Peak District greeting cards all feature my own photographs, capturing the beauty of this wonderful place throughout every season, from the first bluebells of Spring to the deepest snowfall of Winter.
They are blank inside for your own message and suitable for any occasion. They’re square, 6 x 6″ (15 x 15cm), printed in vibrant colours on very high quality card stock and supplied with an envelope. They arrive with you in a compostable cellophane bag to keep them clean in transit.
Sorry, UK shipping only. Please note that all my orders are processed through a small, rural, village Post Office to help keep them open and viable, so please allow 7-10 days for despatch and delivery. Thank you.
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This is the Peak District village of Hathersage, looking quite alpine in the glow of a snowy sunrise. I love this particular view of it - the houses seemingly scattered across the landscape, punctuated with fields and trees, and the protective hug of the hills all around.
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Of all the wonky gates in all the world, this one is my favourite. It can be a little hard to push open, and blimey you've got to run through it quickly unless you want to lose half a leg when it crashes shut behind you, but I love that you reach it through the towering trees on this path beneath Stanage Edge, and that it leads out into the bright Autumn fields above the Hope Valley.
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Spread the Peak District love with this contemporary design, spelling out your favourite places within the original and best National Park!
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In the quiet fields on the edge of the pretty village of Hathersage, I chanced upon this beautiful young roe deer. He stood completely still for a few moments, his eyes shining and his ears quivering, watching me, listening, waiting for the click and the whispered 'Thank You'.
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The Peak District has some truly characterful barns, many of them crumbling beautifully in their fields as the seasons pass, perhaps not as weather-tight as once they were but still providing perfect shelter for cattle and wildlife. This one is a particular favourite of mine, two old survivors, barn and tree, weathering all storms together.
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There are moments in nature that feel so special, so perfect, all you can do is stand and stare, grinning out loud, marvelling at how immensely and endlessly beautiful the world is. Standing here in the cold, watching the sun dancing through the snow-crusted branches, hearing millions of ice crystals falling through the shining air, I felt rich beyond my wildest dreams.
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Is there a better way to spend a sunny day than wandering along an English country lane, grass growing in the middle, sheep baaa-ing over the stone walls on all sides, and endless blue skies above?! This is one of my very favourite lanes in the Peak District, although admittedly I do have many. It offers the most beautiful White Peak views, it's a little haven away from the hustle and bustle - and it ends at a pub.
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This is one of my favourite country lanes in the Peak District, and on a misty autumn morning it's out-of-this-world perfect, the vanishing point hidden in the soft light. I hope you can hear the silence of this photograph, the only sound the occasional patter of a leaf falling down.
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Spread the Peak District love with this contemporary design, spelling out your favourite places within the original and best National Park!
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My beautiful home village of Hathersage in the snow - the High Street quiet, the street lamps glowing and the shops shuttered, awaiting the thaw. Beyond, the fields and hills of the Hope Valley shine, ready for the children to wake up and grab their sledges.
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This peaceful duckpond is in the heart of the Peak District village of Tissington. With a collection of grand stone houses and pretty cottages clustered around a magnificent Jacobean manor, Tissington is one of the most picturesque villages in the area. Explore its narrow lanes to find a 12th Century church, six village wells and this duckpond, home to lively populations of ducks, coots, moorhens and goldfish - who don't always get along as swimmingly as you might think!
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Sometimes everything you need is right there in front of you. Nothing more complicated than an old stone barn in a summer field, surrounded by trees as the evening light falls golden on the grasses. I stayed here until the sunlight faded, the air chilled and the owls began hooting.
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"...Then leaf subsides to leaf / So Eden sank to grief / So dawn goes down to day / Nothing gold can stay." - Robert FrostPerhaps the most precious quality of autumn is its ephemeral nature; of all the seasons, its glory seems to last the shortest time. This always makes me more determined to appreciate every minute of its bright colour, and I certainly drank in the blaze of gold and red and copper and bronze and green along this quiet lane beside Derwent Reservoir. A week or so later, and it was just a memory.
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I'm not really a 'big views' person, but this is one of those magnificent vistas that draws you in to look at all the tiny details, which is what I love most. Looking out over Monsal Dale, very early on a hazy summer morning, it's the epitome of English countryside. The little farm surrounded by small fields, the rickety bridge over the River Wye, and then further up, the hamlet of Upperdale hiding in the trees that line the limestone valley. I could look at this Big Little View for hours.
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In Autumn the ancient woodland of Padley Gorge is filled with soft, muted colours in the trees and underfoot. There's always such a quiet hush here when the air is misty and still; even the birds seem to hold their breath. The only sound is the busy rush and froth of Burbage Brook as it winds around the moss-covered rocks and under the pretty bridges.
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On Sycamore Hill grows this absolute giant of a tree, perfectly formed, the sort of tree a child would draw if asked to draw a tree. Of course it helps that he stands on his own podium and is approached via a rustic gate in a meadow of wildflowers. He deserves nothing less.
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Can you hear the silence? There's barely a ripple from the little rowing boats tethered in the calm, still waters of Ladybower Reservoir, as the mists swarm above the arches of Ashopton viaduct and the green slopes of Crook Hill rise beyond into the morning sky. It's a view that never fails to make my shoulders drop.
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I was peeking through a hedge at this little lamb playing in her dandelion field, when she suddenly spotted me and came rushing over to discover what on earth I was. Except she came so close that I couldn't fit her in the frame and I had to move back a little to take the shot, and then she was Very Proud Indeed that she'd scared off the hedge-based intruder, and went racing off to tell mum how brave she'd been.
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I hope you can FEEL the sunshine oozing out from this beautiful Peak District lane in Hulme End?! I'm always slightly in mourning when May has gone - as usual it seems to zoom past way too quickly in a sweet blur of hawthorn blossom and cow parsley. Before you know it, the baby birds have fledged, the lambs are mini sheep, and June is swaying in with her arms full of foxgloves and poppies.
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Sometimes you don't need grand vistas to feel inspired or lucky. Sometimes you just need old stone barns in fields full of buttercups, the morning mist draped softly across the hills, and the air full of skylarks.
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There are trees, and then there are trees so special that they stand on their very own podium. This one is a treasure in every single different season, but adorned with the freshest, brightest new leaves, shining in the early morning sun, it's hard to imagine it ever looking more perfect.
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I was so happy to see this great procession of vintage David Brown tractors chugging along the Peak District country lanes one summer evening - and even happier to see them drive into the lovely village of Hartington and park up in a very convenient row, while the owners nipped into the local pub! I couldn't resist capturing the scene, and I love the wonderfully warm evening light that shows off their gleaming paintwork!
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Darn it, you know that feeling when you've got your best outfit on, you've done your hair beautifully, and then you only go and spill your dinner all over yourself with the first mouthful?!
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I was very, very happy to spend a ridiculously long time with these stitchwort flowers, covered in dew and sparkling in the early sun. There’s so much beauty in tiny scenes. When you move your gaze from the big views, you’re richer for noticing the thousands of delicate details.
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My footsteps creaking and squeaking, my cheeks reddening, my breath pluming out in front of me in the freezing air, I revelled in every step of this winter walk through Hathersage. I know this little cottage well, but half-glimpsed through the snow-heavy branches on the quiet lane, I felt as if I'd left the village behind and walked straight into a fairytale.
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I very rarely photograph wildlife - I leave that to people with more patience and longer lenses - but when this Little Owl sat staring at me from her tree hollow, the morning sun highlighting her beautiful plumage and wise eyes, well, it would have been rude not to take a picture, wouldn't it?!
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On a misty, still autumn morning, sitting by Burbage Brook as it tumbles through Padley Gorge, you can't help feeling that you've somehow fallen into a different world. Here there's no haste or pressure, no noise but the constant rush and bubble of water and the occasional fall of a leaf. I find that I always stay long, long after I've taken the shot, losing track of time, just watching and listening and breathing it all in, so grateful for such places and the chance to fall into them. It's always a wrench to climb back up to reality.
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I feel lucky beyond measure to live in this beautiful place. Even though I know it far better than the back of my hand, and I have seen it in all weathers and seasons and moods, it still has the ability to take my breath away on a regular basis. Rosy dawns on quiet lanes, the dew on the fields sparkling in the soft light? All the money in the world can't buy mornings like this, nor the gift of seeing them and revelling in them.
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The sight of wild poppies growing amid ripening corn is becoming a common sight again in countryside fields, which I'm very glad to see. I'm sure it's more inconvenient for the farmers but it's so good for the insects, and the sight of those bright scarlet blooms instantly makes you feel summery! This lovely countryside scene was captured just outside the Peak District town of Bakewell.
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The bright purple heather on the Peak District moors takes on a whole new level of POW! as the sun sets and adds in late summer gold to the mix. This is the view of the distinctive hill of Higger Tor as seen from the Iron Age hill fort of Carl Wark, its slopes covered in heather and bracken and sunlight.
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Who says that winter can’t be colourful?! This beautiful spot is just on the edge of Hathersage, a former quarry that’s now an idyllic, quiet birch woodland. These fabulously colourful gritstone cliffs surround the place and they made the perfect backdrop to the half-frozen pool, every ledge caught with snow. It felt like such a privilege to be there with the sun streaming through the trees, making every shadow sparkle.
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As soon as Autumn rolls around I start searching out Fly Agaric toadstools, and I was very happy to find a little cluster under an old birch tree in Bolehill near Hathersage, surrounded by bright fallen leaves. They're such tiny, pretty things, reminiscent of magic and enchantment. And, with a sting in the tail like all the best fairytales, completely deadly.
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This is Moat Low, a Bronze Age bowl barrow and Scheduled Monument near Tissington in the Peak District, visible for miles around and easily recognisable because of its distinctive trees. Excavations here in 1845 revealed a grave with two skeletons and further cremation remains, as well as a bronze axe. It's fascinating to think of the history of these places and our ancestors who perhaps walked the same paths we still walk now. I'm pretty sure I'd be happy with this as my final resting place.
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Every time I walk in Padley Gorge, even though I tell myself sternly, "Stay away from the bridge, walk past the bridge, do NOT photograph the bridge" - I just can't resist it. And on this misty, shining morning, with the early light glowing on the midsummer green, it looked pretty darned perfect.
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There are few things more life-affirming than walking through Spring woods on a sunny morning, the air full of birdsong and the scent of bluebells. These woods near Hathersage have always been a favourite of mine, but at this time of year they take on an even more special quality.
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This is the lovely village of Butterton in Staffordshire. It makes my heart a little lighter to know that places like this still exist in our frantic, loud 21st Century world, where the ford trickles past the cottages and over the cobbles on Pothooks Lane, just as it has done for centuries.
