Story
Hinterland
This is the quiet country of the Dunnerdale and Woodland fells—land that progress has mostly passed by, where life continues much as it did a hundred years ago.
Here, deep in the dale beneath veils of soft mist, a prize-winning Turner Hall Farm tup from Anthony Hartley’s flock stands encircled by his ewes on Undercrag Haw. It’s a timeless scene—one of Herdwicks at home, in the heart of their breeding grounds.
The landscape carries a flavour all its own: not quite Cumberland, not quite Westmorland, but something even more intimate and proud. The dialect, the Old Norse place names, the outlook of the people—all speak of a world that moves to its own steady rhythm. The folk here, like their sheep, tend to keep to their heaf and hold fast to the old ways. Yet there’s wisdom too—born from living close to land, stock, and season.
To come down to these fells on a November evening, watch them turn, and catch the scent of woodsmoke near Seathwaite is to feel time loosen its grip. These places are rare now, and all the more precious for it. I’m not old-fashioned—but I do prefer the older ways. And with camera in hand, this is where I feel most at home.
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