Tag Archives: Wuthering Heights
Supermodel, with Balls
It was raining. Hard. Long-unused umbrellas opened like reluctant flowers, showering hurrying heads with dust and desiccated spiders. My new friends had driven me into Haworth for the evening from the refurbished cotton mill where I was staying. Nestled between … Continue reading
Weathering Heights [The Great Escape, day 2]
‘Don’t trust anyone who tells you they know a short-cut!’ So says one young woman as a group of them emerge from the deep shade of many trees on a steeply sloping hillside. We take no short cuts. But still … Continue reading
“Cold in the earth – and fifteen wild Decembers”
The Yorkshire moors are cold, this time of year – cold and dramatic. But when the sun shines and the frost bites, when flecks of snow fly, gentle, on a breath of wind – then, they are soaringly beautiful. Is … Continue reading
