Morning Mist starts to clear…Stanton Moor
After a week of dark fog filled days, in yesterdays blog, I indulged in a little wistful thinking….looking forward to better days once again.
So we were surprised to waken to a heavy white mist (OK makes a change from Fog) but there was a hint of blue. The forecasters even reckoned that the sun would eventually break through. So Buster and I didn’t need to think twice and headed off to the moors to stretch the legs and hopefully take in some really fresh air.
Climbing up to the moors one could be forgiven for thinking that the sun would never appear through the mist…
eventually it did… timing its arrival as we reached the Trig Point and its expansive views.
In truth the mist never disappeared…it merely dropped into the valleys that surround the moor, rolling along morphing to produce an ever changing low level cloud line…
Stanton Moor has for me two distinct attractions that most moors do not have.
The first is the numerous Silver Birch, some fine individual mature trees others in small plantations filtering the early morning light…
The second is the mysterious Bronze Age Stone Circle. In those long gone days Stanton Moor was well populated and an area farmed by our ancestors…and the Stone Circle was their respected place of worship and celebration.
Called the Nine Ladies Stone Circle there are nine standing stones and one flat alter stone. To the west there is a short avenue, at the end of which is an individual standing stone named The King Stone. Whilst being nowhere near the scale of the famous Stonehenge it was of equal importance to this Bronze Age community…
Surrounded by an arc of Silver Birch it makes for quite a mystical place….and one that is still used by Druids for their Winter and Summer Solstice celebrations.
A great walk with the bonus of some wonderful winter mist and sunshine….exhausting but refreshing all at the same time.
I would add a PS….whilst most of these images depict a warm sunny day, I can assure you it was bitterly cold despite that fact there was not the hint of a breeze.
(C) David Oakes 2017