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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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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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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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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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 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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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.
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Sometimes you don't need wide views or iconic landmarks; the prettiest sights are often the simple ones that just evoke good memories. Like this one, bringing to mind that feeling of resting in a summer meadow, surrounded by clover, looking up at the blue sky with buttercups waving above your head, the bees buzzing all around. This image makes me feel happy and I hope it makes you feel happy too.
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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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The summer heather in the Peak District is a truly awe-inspiring sight, with the hills and moors turned briefly into a palette of vibrant pinks and purples. This shot was taken on a perfect summer evening at Millstone Edge, when the dusky colours in the sky matched those on the ground. The bright green of the grasses and those lichen-covered rocks in the foreground just completed the scene for me.
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The vivid pink of the heather on the Peak District moors looks wonderful every summer, bringing brightness and fabulous scents to the hills. I love the way the colours of the ground match the colours of the sky in this image, the early evening sunset turning the whole landscape a candy pink.
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This beautiful lone birch tree on Lawrence Field near Hathersage has to be one of the most photographed trees in the Peak District, which means that I usually avoid it with a vengeance, but in the early morning sunshine, surrounded by heather, I was powerless to resist its charms. I just loved the soft purple of the flowers, the lit gold of the grasses as the sun rose, and the gentle mist providing a perfect backdrop to it all.
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Honestly, between heather seasons it's easy to forget just how incredibly, eye-poppingly purple the Peak District landscape becomes in late summer. This is one of my very favourite spots for heather views, looking out from the huge boulders of the Iron Age hill fort of Carl Wark, towards the rocks of Over Owler Tor. It's particularly beautiful at sunset, when the last light floods over the moors and makes every flower glow. You feel as if you're standing in the most stunning sea of colour.
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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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OK, I know I have lots of favourite gates (... doesn't everyone?! ...) but this one is a cracker, and it looked particularly magical when the White Peak fields beyond were covered in layers of soft morning mist. I had to stand and admire it for quite some time. It looked like a gateway to another world, where the trees had become islands in a shallow sea of ever-shifting white.
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This wonderful lone tree is at Sheldon in the White Peak of Derbyshire, an area famed for its gently rolling hills criss-crossed with limestone walls. Its arching shape made a perfect silhouette curling around the setting sun, which lit up the slopes and hollows of the land.
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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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The rocky outcrop of Higger Tor, high above the village of Hathersage, is one of my favourite places in the Hope Valley to watch the sun set. With the right conditions the whole valley floods with a golden light and the trees cast long shadows over the landscape. On this particularly evening the light was glorious, and I knelt down in the damp heather to capture the view beyond these gritstone rocks. Then, as I did so, a curious little woolly face peeped around the corner and looked at me quizzically, as if to say "what the ...?!" This is one of my own personal favourite ever photographs, as much for the reminder of the laugh as for the image itself.
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This beautiful little footbridge in Padley Gorge looks wonderful in every season, but with the bright jewels of autumn leaves strewn across the tree roots and moss-covered rocks, well, you can see why I've called this image 'Riches'. Material wealth has nothing on sights like these!
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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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This entirely natural heart-shaped hole is in the bottom of a beautiful old beech tree in Padley Gorge. You have to crawl about in the leaves to see it, but it's well worth the effort and dirty knees. The area looks beautiful in every season, but in Autumn, when the floor is strewn with the bright jewels of fallen leaves, it's probably at its most inspiring.
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This little lane between Hathersage and Grindleford in the Peak District is absolutely stunning in Autumn, and I mean stop-the-car-and-just-look! stunning, with so many bright colours of different hues that it sends your eyes a bit crazy to take them all in. On days like this Autumn feels like Nature's grand finale, that last huge firework, before we all troop home and snuggle down for the night of Winter.
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Padley Gorge in the Peak District is a wonderful place to visit in the autumn. The foliage is a fantastic spectrum of colours above you, and the ground under your feet is littered with red among the tree roots. This beech tree is a particular favourite of mine and it looked so beautiful decked out in its autumn finery.
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Honestly, sometimes you have days that you wish would never end, when everywhere you look are scenes of the most incredible beauty, you have to stop, put down the camera for a bit and look in awe. The autumn colours along this narrow lane in the Upper Derwent Valley were off the scale, and even better when reflected in the pools of water gathered along the verges.
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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 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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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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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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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 outside the village of Youlgrave is a particular favourite of mine, standing alone in its field with only a tree for company; two old survivors.
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A beautiful moment on the edge of the Peak District village of Abney. The soft, low-lying mists and the movement of the birds contrasted with the solidity of the twisted old hawthorn tree, its branches curved by decades of moorland winds. I love the colour of nature and very rarely edit in black and white, but it seems to suit this very simple, structural image.
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These beautiful woods are above the pretty Peak District village of Hathersage, approached by a narrow path up a hill. Walking through that little gate is like entering a different world. In Spring they're full of bluebells, in Summer the birds sing crazily in the beech trees, in Autumn they're a riot of colour ... and in Winter, well, they're magical. The snow falls so softly amid the ancient trees and the whole place is silent and sparkling.
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Deep in the quiet pine woods covered in snow, standing alone and almost hidden among its lofty proud neighbours, I spotted this perfect little Christmas tree, its branches dusted with snowflakes like icing sugar.
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I stumbled across this beautiful winter scene during a walk in some very pretty woods above the little Peak District village of Grindleford, just after a fresh snow fall. Early in winter, the last of the beech leaves were still clinging to the branches, covered in a light dusting of snowflakes. I love the little 'ping' of colour that they add to an otherwise almost black and white view, and that suggestion of the seasons changing, the turn from autumn to winter.
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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.