All too often we pass by so much tiny beauty, absorbed by our loud, big lives. How much richer we might be if we paused to notice the delicate details that surround us. Sitting with these stitchwort flowers today, I particularly loved that little bug dwarfed by a shining dewdrop.

After the daffodils, the dandelions. Close behind, the bluebells and stitchwort, and then wild garlic, galaxies of white stars in dark woodlands, leading the way for froths of cow parsley and acres of buttercups. I feel so lucky to be able to tell the time with flowers.

I love this time of year, this cusp of Spring, for all the promise that lies ahead. There's a sense of anticipation, of life just beginning, from the leaves unfurling to the flowers in tight bud waiting for the light. It’s such a privilege to watch it coming back, field by field.

Sometimes, in the noise and the haste of life, it does your soul good to just stand in the quiet and stare at an open road stretching through the fields of green, full of possibilities. If only reality didn't call quite so loudly with work and bills and laundry. #peakdistrict

A rather beautiful spot. 😍

And then suddenly ... there was green. After months of grey and mud, I stood in this little wood last week and just soaked up the green, ravenously, greedily. Soon there will be bluebells and ramsons here, bursts of bright colour, but for now I am more than content with green.

Walking home at the end of a long day, and this is just what I needed to see. A winding path, the sun sinking over the hills, lighting the treetops pink, knowing that the kettle's on and the fire is lit. Some might think it unbearably quiet but I wouldn't swap it for the world.

As National Parks turn 75, a new report highlights only 6% of their land is recorded as being in good health for nature - with the Yorkshire Dales having less tree cover than York and waterways across these special places heavily polluted by sewage released from storm overflows.

Glowing in the morning light, this is the #peakdistrict village of Miller's Dale, nestled alongside the River Wye. The water bubbled through the valley and birds sang out from the trees, but otherwise all was perfectly peaceful as the day began in this little slice of England.

It’s always humbling to watch a new life come into the world, and I felt very privileged to watch this lambing. What I loved most was seeing how all the other sheep watched on anxiously and then welcomed the baby into the flock. #peakdistrict

Happy April! We've definitely made it to Spring now ~ the lambs are telling us, the birds are telling us, and so is my #peakdistrict Calendar. If you own one, you can enjoy these ladies bringing glamour to your wall all month, cavorting in the dew-soaked grass as the sun rises.

Thank you so much for your support. 😌

Sometimes you meet trees that absolutely must shake themselves, stretch their branches and walk around the moonlit woods at night. This old beech has roots like coiling tentacles, not so much to tether him to the earth but to propel him around when my back is turned.

If it’s been as dark and wet with you recently as it has been here, cheer yourself up for a minute with this little peek into what the next month or two holds in the Peak District National Park. This is my absolute favourite time of year and I can’t wait to watch it all unfold…

Meanwhile, in the #peakdistrict , fall into a little time slip with me, where peaceful lanes are yours for the wandering, and ducks still splash on village duckponds.

This morning I stood among the songs of wrens, watching the endless bubble of the brook as it flowed over mossy rocks and under narrow bridges. The fog wrapped around the trees and I lingered for as long as I could, wishing so hard that the spell wouldn’t have to break.

I am longing for warm summer days of green, but there is limitless beauty in every season and mood if you stop to look. Standing on the edge of the Hope Valley, before a sea of morning mist swirling at the edges of the rusty moors, it was easy to remember that. #peakdistrict

When the #peakdistrict hills are blurred with rain, creep yourself into the old woods. Here you'll find a different world, where your footsteps are quiet on the damp paths, the twisted branches shelter you and the colours glow even more brightly in the soft air.

This is the sad tale of an old wooden gate, once framing its #peakdistrict view perfectly, at one with the grasses and stone walls, but now replaced by a shiny metal number. This is when I'm glad I record little scenes of countryside life - when they're lost forever, bar by bar.