Wrought

The downpour threatened by the weather forecast didn't quite materialise, although it was drizzly and dull when I set out for for a short walk up the moor edge to Hope Gate, returning via Hope Farm and Green Lane. The stonechats were showing well in their field, as were the lapwings in theirs and the skylarks ululated.

On days like this, when the light is poor, and most of the colour has been drained out of the sky and moor, I find myself looking inside the landscape for my photographs. The moor's boundary wall has served me well for blips in the past, as there is so much variety in form and texture within a weathered dry stone wall, and in the various natural and human made things that have accreted there over the years.

wrought
into the landscape
iron nail