If Only You Could Bottle This.....

....... In need of fresh air and a breather after a sumptious lunch of locally-reared Rack of Lamb and copious amounts of red wine, we had set off up the moor with the dogs as the sun dipped towards Tideswell Moor. The resident Kestrel called to her mate on the still evening air and the honey scent of heather was intoxicating after the afternoon's rain, mixed with the peaty smell of bracken and gorse.I climbed with my sister to the quarry edge where we perched, cushioned by the springy heather, cocooned in the serenity of the early moorland evening. As the Snipe whirred its vibrating call overhead, we setteled back and drank in the scent and sound of the moor.The dogs, invigorated by the trail of fresh scents, gathered around us, panting and cooling in the damp heather. As the mist in the valley reflected the pink and lilac of the distant hills we sat: comfortable in sisterly silence and drank in the stillness of the hour.We could have stayed there forever, but as the air chilled we made our way back to the warmth of the kitchen and the promise of a fire and sloe gin. As the sun dipped, fuschia, behind heliotrope clouds, she said: 'If ony you could bottle this'I realised , in an instant, that none of the farming enterprises, successful as they were, made use of the best asset we had on the farm: the views, the wildlife, the essence of the moor.Suddenly, rejoining our party, we had a whole new subject to discuss.........
Labels: Kestrels, moorland, Snipe, wildlife