Early morning astronomy followed by a walk on the Moor.
The Moor is looking decidedly lacklustre this August.
In which I seek a better word to describe a profoundly uplifting sensation.
Getting to know a place well means knowing what to look forward to, and appreciating when something unusual happens.
August on the Dee Marshes and the Pennine Moors, including encounters with a bolshie pheasant, a practising peregrine, and a flirty wheatear.
After 20 years walking on the Moor, I finally bag a brace of decent grouse photos.
It's getting to that time of year again. Swallows are on their way.
Our moorlands are—or should be—important wetland habitats.
How red grouse change their habits in cold weather.
When your instincts and your compass disagree, trust your instincts. I mean your compass.
My point-and-shoot camera turned out to be the best camera in the world yesterday.
The Moor is at peak-purple at this time of year, with the heather in full bloom.