Feeling the Breeze

DM seemed to think it was time to stop all my dramatic  lying around being ill and go for a walk. So for the first time in a couple of weeks we set out onto the moor. It was so good to feel the breeze on my face, even the light missle and find the rhythm of the moor again, the ferns so lush and green now, the heather all purple, the sheep startled and suspicious, the grouse at risk from the guns in the distance. 
DM agreed, here in moor top pose, into the wind  catching the scent of tea time in Skipton 10miles away. Alert to possibility,  on the edge of disappointment.

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