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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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.
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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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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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In winter you glimpse the true beauty of trees; their skeletal forms stripped of leaves, showing the intricacy of every bough, branch and twig. This little cluster of trees in the snow caught my eye on a Peak District hill, standing apart from their neighbours. I call it 'The Family' because it doesn't take much imagination to see two parents with their child protectively between them.
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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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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 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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"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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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!
