
I can barely believe that it is almost a week since I left home for the north. Time seems to be flying by at present and leaving me behind. I had been chomping at the proverbial bit to get away, hoping that the heather, already coming into flower five weeks ago when I was last on the moors, would wait for me.

I couldn’t face the motorway … I needed to unwind rather than deal with that kind of madness. Even so, I was glad traffic was light as I turned onto the old Roman road that cuts straight up the country towards Derbyshire. This road takes me through several counties and the countryside had that ephemeral, unmistakeable feel of approaching autumn. Bales of hay dot the fields, trees rise in verdant clouds above the seared grasses of late summer and the hedgerows are full of fruit and berries. Jewel colours of citrine and emerald. Beautiful… but I had driven over a hundred and fifty miles before I glimpsed a faint, smokey smudge upon the horizon. Perhaps there would still be some heather…

I turned along the river valley towards Hathersage, thinking that here, at least, I would be able to see… No. Not a thing. The trees curve over the road, a green wormhole from which I could see nothing but the occasional glimpse of the crags above. Through the little town, up the narrow lane below the church that holds the grave of Little John…. And as I round the corner, a small patch of purple in full bloom. The next corner, a swathe…. Then I can see little as I climb the winding road beneath the cliffs of Stanage Edge… but by this time I am smiling. I pull over and a passing cyclist raises his eyebrows and grins. I am that transparent?

It’s not that there was much heather to see… but I could enough to know there would be. I couldn’t quite tell whether it had not yet reached it best or had just passed it. Some clumps were that faded bronze of either side of that magical moment, others were prefect. Another hundred yards and I would find out… another hundred yards and I knelt in the heather and buried a tear-damp face in beauty.

What is it about the heather? Apart from the sheer beauty of a land painted purple for miles and miles… of whole hillsides and mountains cloaked in colour… or the fragrance of honey mingling with the sharp, antiseptic tang of bracken? If the late-summer south is an emerald set in the spun gold of harvest, the moors in bloom amethyst tossed on a wedding veil. To many this landscape is always bleak… no matter what the season, its beauty is stark and spare… rocks and perpetual shades of autumn and grey. It is an old landscape, one I love with all my heart, but for those few brief weeks when the heather blooms….. I just know that the sight seems to call up the central sun from every atom of my being and together they blaze with a joy unlike any other.




























Traveling an ancient road through such land. Purple is suitable cloaking. Beautiful
LikeLike
There is a rightness about taking the old roads, somehow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The old straight track….straight to Elvenhome 🙂
LikeLike
Looked like it too with the heather in bloom 🙂
LikeLike
What a beautiful land!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is… very beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What breathtaking scenery. Thanks so much for sharing it. Hugs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is a beautiful landscape, Teagan.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely breathtaking, Sue! How beautiful to see the heather and the actual color. I love it. Thanks so much for sharing! ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
These were just the first pictures on a dull afternoon… it just got better 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, the color is so vibrant! Love it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The scent is heavenly too when the sun warms it…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never even thought about that! How about when it rains? Nice!
LikeLike
Then the sharpness of the bracken takes the lead… and it is still beautiful 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! Sounds heavenly.
LikeLike
It is, Colleen.. it really is 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful, Sue, and I agree travelling the old roads is so much more enjoyable than the motorway. Looking forward to seeing what other pics you have taken on this journey.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Just the odd one or two 😉
It just feels right on the old roads… as if the land knows where it is taking you.
LikeLike
It does. Were you on Fosse Way?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Watling Street for part of the way.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Barrow Blogs: .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Warm moist heather – memories! This is a lovely post, Sue.Jx
LikeLiked by 1 person
Once it has you, it has you for always, doesn’t it? x
LikeLiked by 1 person
It does. Jx
LikeLiked by 1 person
The Roman purple! Glad you made it in time to see its glory!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So am I, Noelle… I really feared I would miss it this year. I did for the best part of twenty years… never again, if I can help it.
LikeLike
Stunning!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Isn’t it? 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sue, for sharing these beautiful photos. Such a lovely place. Wish I was there to walk the lovely roads. Blessings!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is such a beautiful place, Janice, that whole area… Everyone should get the chance to be there when the heather blooms.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow…that last pic!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The colours are incredible, aren’t they?
LikeLiked by 1 person
They are. I want a garden full of different coloured heathers.
LikeLike
You can get heather that flowers almost every month of the year… but I’d settle for just one month like this 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes indeed
LikeLiked by 1 person
I want that to be my front yard!!! I have some Mexican heather, but I know it’s not the same.
LikeLike
So do I, Melinda… or at least not to be so far away…
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fantastic Sue
LikeLike
Thanks, Denis.
LikeLike
Hathersage is one of my favourite parts of the world but since moving away I don’t get to visit often. You’ve captured it beautifully!
LikeLike
I’m glad… it is a beautiful area, and one I am lucky enough to visit pretty often these days. I missed the north far too long…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pure bliss! I can absolutely understand your tie to this land. Visceral and deeply felt, I know that call in my own home landscape. Your post really expresses it so well!
LikeLike
It just ‘has’ you and never lets go, does it?
LikeLike
Anchored in the DNA, I think. 😉
LikeLike
I think so too …or even deper than that 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you for sharing, Sue. What beautiful countryside, and the heather is absolutely gorgeous. Hugs, my friend.
LikeLike
Oh it was magnificent, Michelle, it really was ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person