I pulled in the car park at the top of Holme Moss for all ten minuets today and watched four seasons of weather whizz by.
There was hail, sleet and a dash of show
Emly Moor mast, briefly sparkled in the sun, it stands at over a thousand feet in height and is a Grade II listed building, it puts the wind turbines in the shade.
These dark satanic looking turbines emerged out of the swirling hail, they brought to mind the film, War of The Worlds, as the seemingly marched across the moors.
Back over the county boundary from Yorkshire into Derbyshire, I met the gritter lorry climbing the steep hill casting its cargo of salt. That’s a shame I thought, I’d have liked a photo of that, I rather like the bleached grass, the empty road, the tar black winter heather, the flash of orange; but there was no where to pull over.
Then it occurred to me that it would, being a Derbyshire county council lorry, turn at the summit and county boundary, and come back down the hill again, so I swung into one of the big laybys (designed I suspect for when in heavy snow, the gritter lorry can’t make it up the hill and needs to turn and retreat).