Peaklass Christmas Cards
Send out a little Peak District moment to your nearest and dearest at Christmas, with my beautiful winter greetings cards. They all feature my own photographs captured throughout the Peak District, when the woods are sparkling with snow and the hills are blanketed with soft white.
All my cards are blank inside for your own message. 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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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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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.
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You'll find these wonderful old wrought iron gates at Haddon Hall, one of the most beautiful and important historic houses in England. Even better, they lead into its Medieval Park, a true Secret Garden, untouched by man for nearly a millennium, where Nature has been left to her own perfect devices. To stand here and gaze through the gates as the snow drifted softly and silently down was one of the most magical winter moments I can remember.
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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!
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Flash is the highest village in England, and this old postbox must have seen some windy days by its wonky angle. It looked so perfect against the lovely old church in the falling snow - a timeless English country scene.
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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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This beautiful little wooden footbridge in Padley Gorge spans the crystal-clear Burbage Brook, captured here in midwinter with the snow gently drifting down and melting in the water.
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This little robin was singing his heart out in a frosted tree in Bakewell, fluffing up his feathers to stay warm and to do his very best impression of a round Christmas bauble.
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This entirely natural heart-shaped hole lies at the very bottom of a beautiful old beech tree in Padley Gorge, where the tree has weathered centuries of winters and seen generations come and go. I love to visit the 'heart tree' in all seasons, and it looked perfect in the falling snow.
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These are the stretching White Peak fields as seen from the little hamlet of Bretton, that perfect gate in the old stone wall opening onto a world of frosty light, patchwork fields and glowing trees in the early morning sun.
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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.
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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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"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.
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The peaceful Peak District village of Litton, covered by a quiet veil of falling snow in midwinter. The only colour came from the honey stone of the houses and that bright red flash of the old telephone box.
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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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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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Walking through the little Peak District village of Pilsley as the snow fell softly down, felt like walking into a giant snow globe. The only movement came from the dropping flakes and the birds that were making a dash for their nest.
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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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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.
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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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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!
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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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"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.
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The sheep of the Peak District are a hardy lot, well suited to winter life on the hills when the snows blow in across the dry stone walls, but this little group looked seriously unimpressed as their fleeces gathered flakes.
