Mist 'n Haze

Not my thing to walk a grouse moor on a clear sunny day when all there is worth looking at is the distant view if you’re lucky enough to have one. And those distant views that are attractive may not always be there. If politicians have their way they may be more housing estates and more power stations and more polytunnels and the eyesore of oil seed rape. In the Peak District it’s as likely to be quarries and the roads and traffic that serve them. So much for the advantages of the ‘open landscapes’ that moorland apologists are given to praise. Because there’s precious little close at hand to feast the eyes on unless you like the synthetic nature of miles of heather vegetation* – as inspiring and romantic as a field of broccoli.

There’s more visual pleasure to be had from a misty morning on Blacka with always half-expecting to come across something surprising just out of range. And trees adding perspective and character. Unlike Burbage, Blacka always gives you something to explore and some expectation of a new experience. This morning, following a deer track, we came upon a part of the moor where they had spent a lot of time. The old bracken was well flattened and here and there scraped away. It was a perfect hideaway. And in summer with the bracken tall an ideal place to raise young.

The afternoon was still and pleasant but the mist had given way to a soft haze once again insisting that all secrets would not be easily surrendered.

* Perfectly described by Mark Fisher's acronym M.A.M.B.A.  - Mile After Mile of Bugger All.