Richard Carter
A visit from Philip and his phamily.
In which I find an excuse to treat myself to a new rucksack.
The last day of summer. An opening salvo against the squirrels.
Buzzards, wasps, a kestrel, and a bunny.
The first sign of autumn.
Crane fly season is upon us.
A walk on the Moor during ‘peak purple’.
Pheasant pheathers.
A hint of olive green.
A seasonal feast.
Swifts circulating.
The buck stops here—but not for long.
