This blog speaks for the trees. They need defenders when under attack from the institutionalised bashers, fellers and poisoners in the wildlife conservation world here represented by Unnatural England and their servants in the wildlife trust industry. The relish with which these warped characters invite the public to join them in an assault on our largest and most noble native plants appalls me more than the hearty "tally ho" of those who hunt foxes and deer. At least those rural sportsmen are motivated by an interest in food production. But Unnatural England in their anti-tree position simply wants to maintain an open, but utterly artificial landscape. For me, large areas of treeless heather are an abomination which should never have been imposed on our landscape. It's with a sense of incredulity that I see people patting themselves on the back every time they introduce a chain saw to a bit of natural regeneration - in the form of a birch or scots pine that refuses to understand it's not allowed to grow just where it wants - it must first submit its wishes to the management planning process.
So its no surprise that I prefer views where trees have a significant part to play. Snow glamourises most views, but it's the trees that are enhanced on Blacka Moor whereas the grouse moor elements are always disappointing. It's the heather that looks 'scrubby' to me, to use a term often used in a derogatory way when wildlife trusts try to justify a war on young trees.
Getting up onto Blacka has not been easy this last few days. First you have to get out of your own street. Then, assuming the way ahead is clear on the main routes you need to find somewhere to leave your vehicle. That's a problem when snow ploughs push the surplus snow into the lay-byes. But when we did get there we were rewarded this morning with a view of
Chesterfield's crooked spire in the bright sunlight
Our small birds who daily visit the bird feeding station have been neglected -not a good time to leave them to their own devices. The food left hanging from branches was completely gone by this morning and the robin appeared immediately we arrived. We will have to get one of the 4X4 people to help out with the feeding at such times as this.
Beneath rime covered birch the shards clatter down as the wind gets up. Another of the pleasures of early mornings.
Mist also helps to bring out the part played by trees in the landscape. But then what kind of a landscape is it without them - a grouse moor?
Other visitors were around this morning.
These were not the usual residents but a group of itinerant stags who seemed to have spent some of the night sheltering in the woods. Two of them were clearly young with only partly formed antlers. But two were quite mature showing a full set of points.
The infatuated people of the Moors for the Future lobby (mostly bird watchers and bird shooters and opaquely motivated bureaucrats) don't usually try to claim any beauty for the moors. They might claim a certain grandeur but in that they would be confusing the vegetation with the underlying structure which is there anyway. Looking over from the high point of Stony Ridge towards the west you may feel that the high hills of Kinder and Bleaklow show this at its best but how much finer would it be with woodland covering much of it.
Being out early after a fall of snow makes it easier to see evidence of night work. Later other visitors have left prints and confused the picture.
Deer, foxes, moles, badgers, hares and sundry smaller characters have been busy on Blacka in the long hours foraging. 
Though the mole may not be aware of the time of day nor condition above ground.
They may yet discover a way to escape as one of the corner posts is leaning well over and there's a hole in the stock fence.
Sherlock Holmes would not need his magnifier to find a good clue to the culprit.
Lovers of mud will be flocking to Blacka this weekend. Paths have never had so much of it. Maybe the promised cold snap will dry it up a bit. Mountain bikers are doing their bit to add to the effect. It's become something of a lost cause like graffiti and litter in the urban scene. It's beyond simple ignorance. Those mountain bikers that don't keep to the bridleways know what they're doing and probably like the fact that there's disapproval from old fogeys like me. 
This path is particularly vulnerable to erosion and at one end a new 'delta' effect is starting to develop. The wildlife trust seem not to want to put up small 'Walkers Only' signs at critical junctions; this could work. Earlier this year hurdles were erected on the east side and a threatening notice about damage to a SSSI and that seemed to be effective at least for a while.
Their colours blended well with the surrounding bracken and birch branches. In previous years wandering groups of stags have appeared following the rut but these are the first I've seen this year, looking for the more sheltered parts away from the strength of the west winds and the bite of the northern. The thicker mane is now clear to see and a general build up of the coat has prepared them for the cold in the longest nights of the year.
Not more than a couple of feet from the spring discovered recently is another presently disgorging a cascade down the slope into the dyke.
There's something reassuringly mysterious about the way that water bursts out from the ground like this leaving you trying to imagine the cavities below where it gathers before saturation leads it to pour out.
There still remain parts of Blacka where the modern and philistine world seems far away although this section was tragically cut through with barbed wire four years ago by conservation forces.
