Look at that little ball of fire; even Yorkshire clouds can’t quite blot it out.
A cold, winter morning after a rare decent snowfall. The sun was only just rising, and the snow on the ground was yet unfettered by footprints.
Reaching and clawing to a sky that is already closing up…
The sky through the trees of our nearby wood. The forest floor was blanketed in several feet of snow; it began snowing again soon after, and we almost lost the trail…
Crookes across the Rivelin
The view to the East from our home; I never quite figured out what that big building actually was.
Satis Writes 