What makes days like today so enjoyable is that nature, for now at least, appears to be winning the war. The war has been going on between nature and the managers since the latter arrived. In winter when much of the moor is in dormant condition the destroyers get their own way. Once spring gets into its formidable stride the power (and beauty) of nature prevails.
That's where we are now with all the unplanned bottom-up attractions making their show. Flowering Rowan and Whitebeam, swelling and flowering Bilberry and an invasion of Cotton Grass put the Philistines to the sword. The shame is that to win the war rather than just the seasonal battle the enemy needs to be vanquished for good and nature itself is no match for industrial armaments
Many flowers which should be on the moor never get a chance, even common ones would lift the spirit at ground level. So we see wildflowers where the stormtroop 'conservation grazers' can't get to such as this tall meadow buttercup, safely behind the wall.
The horror of this war is in the militarized zone euphemistically called a sheep pasture. Here nature is losing spectacularly even in summer.
There are elements here of bombsite and prison camp with post-battle chaos leaving the army of the winning side wandering about dazed and stressed to the extent that their coats are falling bedraggled from their backs.
Never forget that we pay for this ugly scandal.
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