I grew up in the Yorkshire Dales in the north of England. Hikes and wanderings were a regular feature of my early childhood. Climbing hulking mountains, lefty lofty by ancient glacial activity eroding the river valleys below, was a regular family pastime. Soaking up vast and rolling vistas and often seeking a spot to shelter from the constantly changing weather, was just what we did on weekends. As a child, these enormous hills provoked awe (and a certain amount of fear and trepidation) when viewed in the early morning light, from a muddy puddle-ridden car park at the trail head, buried deep in the valley bottom. To refuel with a damp sandwich in the vicinity of a trig point, atop some faraway lump of rock, being the sole mission of the day. These outings instilled a respect and appreciation for the physical majesty of rural Yorkshire and, in retrospect, taught me much about personal journeys, resilience and what it is to feel deeply connected to country. Memories of being in these places are where my heart goes to for solace and my mind goes to, to feel free and strong, so it's no surprise that references to landscape surface regularly in my work. I didn't know it at the time, but these early life experiences would lead me to spend future years pursuing meditative ambulatory journeys through some of the most amazing landscapes on earth.
Photo Credit - Free Spirit Images.