There's such a sense of wonder that comes with watching a winter sunrise. Everything seems to happen much more quietly and gently than it does in summer. The light creeps into the sky with the softest pastel colours, the growing warmth very slowly burns off the mist that hangs in the valley, and the fields echo with nothing more than birdsong, sheep and your footsteps on the frosty grass. You always leave with your heart feeling a little bit lighter than when you arrived.
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A Quiet Light: Little Moments of Beauty in the Peak District National Park Photographs & Words by Peaklass At long last, after many years in the making and planning, I am absolutely delighted to be able to offer my book of Peak District photographs and words. It is a 152-page celebration of the small glimpses of countryside life that hold such immense beauty. From the first light of spring sunshine rising over the hills, to the swirling mists that weave through the valleys on late summer mornings. From the soft, damp stillness of autumn lanes, to the impossible silence of snow falling in the ancient woodlands. Presented seasonally, each photograph is accompanied by my words about the scene, place or image. I have been dreaming of this book for such a long time, and it's most probably the only one I'll ever make, so I haven't scrimped on quality! It's a premium, hardback volume, A4 in size, printed in the UK on weighty 170gsm silk paper, FSC-certified and carbon-balanced by the World Land Trust. Would you like your book signed? If so, please just include a note to this effect when placing your order. There's no extra charge. Delivery: Sorry, UK shipping only. Please note, delivery is by Royal Mail Tracked 48 via a small, rural, overworked Post Office. Please allow at least 7-10 days for despatch, processing and delivery. Thank you! ISBN 978-1-3999-9193-3
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This lovely lane is in Staffordshire, not far from the little Peak District village of Wetton. The setting sun was turning the sky a beautiful pinky purple, which matched the colours of the wild scabious flowers in the verges. It was a warm, quiet evening and just a very pretty scene that I felt privileged to be able to capture.
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Poppies are such beautiful flowers, with their poignant symbolism and their fragile, delicate, tissue-paper petals. They're also very fickle about when and where they grow. The seeds can lay dormant in soil for up to 100 years and need light to flourish, so you'll only find poppies in ground that has been disturbed. This might explain why this Peak District field in Bubnell was an absolute sea of poppies one year, yet had not a single bloom in the years to follow. It made me feel even more privileged to have seen it, and to have been able to watch the sun set over these crimson petals.
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Deep in the woods, where only drops of winter sun fall through the branches onto the earth, lighting rocks that seem soft with velvet mosses, you walk into a world where fairytale and reality blur. In Celtic mythology such places were called Thin Places; where the veil between the physical world and the 'otherworld' of dreams was at its finest. The veils in Padley Gorge seem non-existent at times and I always stay out far too long amongst the ancient trees and shadows.
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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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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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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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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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This is the beautiful Peak District village of Alstonefield, looking about as perfect as possible in the early morning autumn light. It has a village green, a country pub, a 12th Century church, more pretty houses than you can shake a stick at, and perhaps best of all, Bert's Bench under the spreading golden sycamore. Who wouldn't want to sit here for a while and watch the sunlight catching in the fallen gold?
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I don't think I'll ever lose that thrill of watching a cloud inversion, a phenomenon that occurs when temperatures at ground level are lower than those up in the air. It feels like watching a magician's trick as the mist coils and swirls through the valleys - revealing, then hiding, then revealing again the farms and trees and villages. This is one of my favourite views of the Hope Valley, with Mitchell Field Farm nestled in a hollow of trees. On this particular morning the farm stood bathed in early sunshine, but its view across the hills was utterly hidden as the mist danced around its footings.
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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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Darn it, you know that feeling when you've got your best outfit on, you've done your hair beautifully, and then you only go and spill your dinner all over yourself with the first mouthful?!
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This is the historic Peak District market town of Bakewell, snoozing in the early morning, with the mists rising from the River Wye and slowly clearing from the jumble of rooflines. I love how the first rays of sunlight are just hitting the clock on the graceful spire of All Saints' Church.
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As I walked past this woodland of tall, dark pines, my eye was caught by a spotlight of sun spilling down through the trees. It completely lit up a tiny beech sapling, still proudly bearing its blaze of orange leaves, a little flame of colour and light in the gloom. Everyone needs their moment to shine, and I think this was hers. I'm glad I was there to see it.
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These graceful birch trees grow amid the bracken in Bolehill, just outside the Peak District village of Hathersage. The woodland here is always beautiful to explore, but on misty autumn mornings there's such a quiet, still magic that it feels a little bewitched. On days like this I find that I creep about, hardly daring to move or make a sound in case I break the spell, and I can't stop myself from glancing back over my shoulder every few paces for unseen eyes among the trees.
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I was peeking through a hedge at this little lamb playing in her dandelion field, when she suddenly spotted me and came rushing over to discover what on earth I was. Except she came so close that I couldn't fit her in the frame and I had to move back a little to take the shot, and then she was Very Proud Indeed that she'd scared off the hedge-based intruder, and went racing off to tell mum how brave she'd been.
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Sometimes you don't need grand vistas to feel inspired or lucky. Sometimes you just need old stone barns in fields full of buttercups, the morning mist draped softly across the hills, and the air full of skylarks.
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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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This hazy sunset in the little Peak District hamlet of Congreave summed up a rural summer evening for me in just one look: the low sun lighting the swaying grasses, the barn full of gathered hay and swooping swallows, and the quiet country lane stretching away into the still-warm fields.
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Just how beautiful is this nosey cow, huffling at me over the wall through the cow parsley, the morning sun brightening the highlights around her ears?! The thing that really makes me laugh though, is the shy one behind, just peeping through the gap so as not to miss out on the portrait.
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These woods above the village of Hathersage in the Peak District are a family favourite of mine - easily accessible and with an abundance of trees to climb, rocks to scramble over and secret glades to explore. The spaces between the trees allow the sunlight to filter through, and in the Spring it looks wonderful as the light hits the bluebells and creates shadows on the little grassy paths.
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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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Most of the buildings in the pretty Peak District village of Derwent were flooded when Ladybower Reservoir was created in the 1940s, but a few higher up on the hillsides survived. This beautiful house is one of them, happily, and on a Spring day with the blossom on the trees and the early morning sun streaming through the new leaves, it was a particularly poignant reminder of everything lost in the valley below.
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I don't think I have ever loved my home village of Hathersage more than on this midwinter morning. The curves and edges of the hills sparkled with bright snow, the mists curled lazily below, clearing and regrouping to reveal tiny new scenes each time, and the church stood half-hidden in trees that seemed crafted from diamonds. The gate which once announced the entrance to the village has now given up its duties, but looked perfectly in place resting on part of an old stone wall and shouting its name to the sky. I could happily have stayed all day in this spot, listening to the bells ringing out every quarter hour through the Hope Valley.
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This beautiful little footbridge over the River Wye at Haddon Hall dates back to the 16th Century. Legend has it that in 1563, Dorothy Vernon, then heir to Haddon Hall, met her forbidden lover, Sir John Manners, on the bridge and the couple rode off into the night to elope. Like all great love stories they lived happily ever after, and inherited Haddon Hall only two years later. The same family still live in the Hall today. This is always a wonderful spot in the grounds of the Hall, but on this bright summer morning, surrounded by wildflowers, it was like a scene from a fairytale.
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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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Wyming Brook is a magical place in which to wander, with waterfalls cascading through a wooded glade, crashing over rocks and sweeping under a succession of pretty wooden footbridges. Once a private medieval hunting forest for the region’s nobility, it is now a nature reserve, protected as a safe haven for a wide variety of wildlife. Keep your eyes and ears open here, and look out for crossbills, dippers, redstarts, pied flycatchers and wood warblers, as well as lutestring and northern spinach moths.
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The ancient forest of Padley Gorge is a truly magical place in all seasons and weathers; it's one of my favourite spots in the Peak District. On this particular winter afternoon the light among the twisted old oaks was incredible, a milky sunlight that drifted through the branches, picking out the vibrant moss on the rocks and the little patches of frost still clinging to the fallen leaves.
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Sometimes you head out with intentions of capturing sweeping views and morning mists and grand autumnal scenes ... and then you spy little moments of such absolute simple beauty that you get completely entranced and waylaid, and instead spend ages with the tiniest toadstools gleaming in the dew. But how could I resist?!
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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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This was such a beautiful Peak District morning, the sun just breaking through the mist in the valley and briefly turning the horizon a wonderfully warm orange. Something about this little scene really captivated me: the arching branches over the gate, the delicate filigree twigs of the tree, and that fabulous sky shining through it all.
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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.
