I guess I feel I didn't do the magnificent Ilkely Moor justice when I wrote about it a couple of days ago. Maybe I feel guilty about having referred to it as bleak, afraid that vengeful moorland spirits or elves will come after me.
Well it is bleak, but in a beautiful, lush and wet sense of the word. It is a hard place to live, although plenty does, treeless and damp and mulchy underfoot. Look closely and small white flowers grow everywhere, and all manner of interesting plants I can't dream of identifying. As well as the everywhere Meadow Pipits, gulls and jackdaws scratch at the blustery air and on a clear day the sky stretches as far as the furthest of galaxies.
Which reminds me of today reading once again the story of how a police officer came across an alien up here.
It's not that isolated up here! But at night...well, I could believe all manner of strangenesses taking place then...and I would never try and cross the moor against the advice of the strange locals in the strange local pub!