Country diary: I head for the moors, a Christmas present to myself

Redmires, South Yorkshire: Among the squelch of peat and the hum of the hillside, two grouse break the silenceThe days before Christmas being short, and fine ones rare, I was inclined to make the most of this one: a present to myself. So when the sun slid below the horizon, I still had another hour to walk across the darkening moor of Redmires.Its name is entirely apt. In the last embers of a clear winter's afternoon, the moor glowed with the copper of sedges and rushes, the bronze of bracken gone over in the first winter frosts. Up close, of course, that overall effect of redness disappeared. When I bent to look, there was green everywhere: dull patches of spiky crowberry, the lime freshness of sphagnum, and in one flush a vibrant growth of pennywort as fresh as a bowl of salad. But straightening again, the moor was once more intensely red, almost humming now in the fading light, as though I might hear it if I tried hard enough. Continue reading...