• Promises To Keep

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    'The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.' - Robert Frost
    In these most perfect, dark, deep woods, the snow fell so silently on the branches and the soft earth beneath my feet. The swirl of fog and flakes lit the space ahead, making the distance glow with a half-suggested light that was impossible to resist, drawing me further and further in.
  • 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.
  • A Winter’s Tale

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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.
  • Oh, Hathersage. I don’t think I have ever loved my home village more than I did on this bright, beautiful morning. The curves and edges of the hills sparkled with bright snow, the mists curled lazily below, clearing and regrouping and clearing again to reveal tiny new scenes each time, and the church stood half-hidden amid trees that seemed crafted from diamonds. I could happily have stayed all day in that spot, freezing slowly, listening to the blackbirds and the bell ringing out every quarter hour through the valley.
  • The Snow Fields

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    "So we’re out over the snow fields, before it’s all seen off with a salt-lick of Atlantic air." - Gillian Clarke This is such a tiny little view in the village of Great Hucklow, barely noticed by most, I'm sure, but it intrigues me and I've captured it in every season. That characterful gate, the protective tree, and in winter the view that leads to field upon field of shining snow, divided by dry stone walls beside which the sheep shelter.
  • Throughout the coldest days of winter, every morning when I started work and walked along the magnificent Long Gallery in Haddon Hall, an Elizabethan masterpiece of ornate plasterwork and carved wooden panelling, I spied the flutter of a little robin following me. He hopped from windowsill to windowsill, pecked along the floorboards, flew up to the cornices, and generally seemed to be enjoying what is reputed to be one of the most beautiful rooms in England. At first I worried that he'd got trapped inside, but then I spotted a tiny broken pane in one of the huge leaded windows with a few tell-tale feathers caught on the edges, and I realised that he most probably came in every night to sleep, preferring the high life to a hedge. One morning he posed perfectly for me next to the Christmas decorations, and I like to think it was his way of thanking me for not telling the wardens about his accommodation strategy!
  • 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.
  • "When snow falls ... nature listens." There's something so perfect about winter trees. Stripped of leaves, with every twig exposed, you can really see their intricate beauty. For an extra dose of magic, add in gently falling snow, silently piling up along the branches.
  • This is one of my favourite spots in the Peak District, a quiet, tree-lined lane above the villages of Hathersage and Grindleford. After a fresh fall of snow it looked wonderful with its parade of small bright beech trees adding colour to the winter whiteness.
  • The Winterland

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    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.
  • A Winter Feast

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    I spotted this little rural scene in the hills above Eyam in the Peak District. The sheep were very happily munching on their hay and were beautifully lit by the low winter sun as it streamed across the snow-covered fields. I love looking at all the different characters of the sheep - the two on the right standing aloof and evidently not feeling very hungry, and the one laying down just below them, who I swear has a smile on her face. Obviously she'd managed to get in there first and had maybe had more than her fair share!
  • This is the little 16th Century stone footbridge over the River Wye in Haddon Hall's Medieval Park. It always looks beautiful, but in the peace of deep winter, with a covering of fresh snow, it became magical.