This was such a beautiful morning in Padley Gorge in the depths of a snowy Winter, standing amid the falling flakes and watching as they picked out the stones in the old wall and contoured every bough and branch of those tall, tall beeches.
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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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"Once upon a time, forests were repositories of magic for the human race." - John BurnsideNo matter how many times I walk in the wild ancient woodland of Padley Gorge, it still takes my breath away. It's beautiful when the Spring sunshine is dappling through the leaves of the twisted oaks, when Autumn's brightness shines from every bough, or when the Winter snow is softly falling, but it's perhaps at its very best on misty Summer mornings, when it has such a quiet magic that even the birds fall silent in awe.
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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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Snowdrops make me smile. You can't fail to feel a little brighter and happier when you see those first delicate heads stretching up out of the winter earth, pushing through the dead leaves and damp undergrowth to reach the pale sun.
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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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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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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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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 glowing beauty of Haddon Hall in the early morning light with a soft mist hanging over the hills beyond. Haddon Hall dates back to the 12th Century and it’s a wonderful time capsule inside, with most of its rooms unchanged through the centuries. You can really feel the past breathing from every worn stone step and fine wood panel.
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I love this view of Bakewell: the peaceful banks of the River Wye, overlooked by the jumble of rooflines of the old cottages, leading to the towering spire of All Saints Church beyond. The fresh fall of snow was just, well, the icing on the cake. Or pudding.
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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.
