The Magic Hour

Fortunately at this time of the year it's fairly easy to be up and out to greet the sun as it comes over the distant pennines, though this morning a big jacket, hat and gloves were a necessity, -7°C, but oh so delicate and crisp.

Pooch and I headed up onto Howe Robin and saw not a soul, it was blissfully still and our only company were the odd moorland birds that sprang from their reverie as we scrunched past.