Story
Touch of Light
It’s easy to feel weighed down by grey at this time of year—but then a morning like this comes along. A clearing mist veils the fell tops, and the low winter sun, soft and fleeting, brushes the fells with a touch of warmth. Colours are muted yet rich. The light is a whisper, not a shout. There’s a quiet nostalgia in the air, and I find myself drawn to its gentle melancholy—loving every second.
These canny Herdwick ewes from Turner Hall have bypassed the lower gate, choosing instead a less-trodden route to the adjoining pasture. I admire their knowing. I admire the dry-stone walls too—meandering down the fellside, following the bedrock, grown as much as built.
Sometimes, the Herdwicks are already exactly where they need to be, and all I have to do… is point the camera in the right direction.
A National Trust Property | Photo Permissions kindly granted | Picture © Ian Lawson
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