A walk around the lanes. The foxglove leaves at the side of the track were still coated in last night’s frost, as was the moss on the north-facing drystone walls. The low sun cast long shadows over towards Stoodley Pike. The church bells at Heptonstall rang across the valley, carrying farther in the cold, still air.
“…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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