Sunset is a great time for a quiet stroll in Ribblesdale. The light plays tricks. Limestone changes colour in the sun’s weak rays. Erratic rocks like this one take on unlikely silhouettes. I watch a hare dance alone around a freshly cut field. Sheep take no notice, grazing monotonously as they’d been doing all day long. No birdsong. No traffic. No telephone ringing. No tiresome beep from the computer announcing the arrival of yet another tedious email. Just pleasurable peace in the pastoral perfection of the Dales. Ahhh.
