We’re nearing peak moulting season. The back lawn had several feathers on it this morning, including a magnificent present from one of the local magpies.
A sparrowhawk flew across the bonnet of my car as I drove home along Height Road. I’d like to say I observed it closely, but I was too busy slamming on my brakes. The only real impression: huge yellow feet!
“…wonderfully droll, witty and entertaining… At their best Carter’s moorland walks and his meandering intellectual talk are part of a single, deeply coherent enterprise: a restless inquiry into the meaning of place and the nature of self.”
—Mark Cocker, author and naturalist
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