Barden Moor

I have to admit to making poor use of the recent fair weather, but an evening on the moors went some way to addressing the balance; always a turning point in the year - the first evening trip after work - a little rushed, the evening itself still short, but so good after the long winter nights.
In fact the light had already all but gone by the time I reached the high point of the bridleway across Barden Moor, Cracoe monument silhouetted on the skyline...
...a fiery sunset ahead... I raced on, to reach a favourite spot - just a boulder, like many others dotted across the moor, but a familiar resting point where I sat awhile absorbing the scene. An owl passed above, wings beating lazily through the warm air, thick with the smell of burnt heather.
I rose reluctantly as the stars appeared, a crescent moon lighting the track and the fast descent into Wharfedale.