Thunder and lightning had been confidently forecast for a week, so, of course, there was neither thunder nor lightning. There was, however, hill fog, and the atmosphere was almost unbearably humid, which made walking Rosie the borrowed cocker spaniel sticky and unpleasant.
Foxgloves out in abundance. Cuckoo spit. Vetch. Tormentil. Clover. Magnificent plate-sized clusters of elderflowers in full bloom.
But really, really sticky.
“…wonderful. Science and history and geography and evolution and culture all tangled up in musings while walking about the moors around Hebden Bridge.”—PZ Myers
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