This morning’s walk turned into one of those quiet, unforgettable moments that the Dales are so good at delivering. The weather had been unsettled—patches of light rain drifting across the moor, with the odd break in the clouds—but I’ve long since learned that this kind of shifting light often brings the most interesting conditions.
As I reached a rise near the edge of the fell, the sun briefly broke through. Within moments, a vivid rainbow arched down across the hillside, its colours sharp and luminous against the dark stone and mossy greens of the moorland. I was lucky to have the camera ready—just as I lifted it, a lone bird crossed into the frame, its wings outstretched as it passed beneath the arc of light.
It was over in seconds. The rainbow faded, the clouds closed again, and the fell returned to its quieter tones. But it was enough. These are the moments I go out for—the unexpected ones that catch you off guard and leave you standing still, just taking it all in.
There’s something deeply grounding about being in these hills, especially in weather that refuses to settle. It reminds me that nature’s beauty isn’t always in the big, dramatic displays. Sometimes it’s in the quiet, fleeting encounters—a break in the clouds, the sweep of a wing, a curve of colour painted across the sky.
