Gorse

Twice around the business park at lunchtime at a brisk pace was quite enough in a bitter wind - cold enough to make me wish I was wearing a hat. At least it stayed dry!

By the time MrM and I took Louie for his evening walk on Weetwood Moor, it was cold, damp and dismal, with only the flowering gorse providing a little colour. The hills were hidden behind a thick veil of cloud. 

We searched for some cup and ring mark rocks that MrM had seen marked on the map, but failed to find them. If they exist they're probably overgrown with moss, lichen and heather, like most of the other rocks on that part of the moor.