16.07.2017, CUMBRIA: Rabbits on the sunny hillsides, a few feet from the prickly cover of the thick gorse. Dozing butterflies, dying bluebells and budding buttercups. The sweet stink of sodden bracken. I walked the full bottom path. The woody perimeter with its bear traps of thistles, thorns, cold rain-pools and mossy walls. Then a long steep climb up the hillside, past the owl droppings on the new fences. The soaking black bent grass, speckled with morning dew. The flat hollow boom of a shotgun somewhere on the other side of the valley. Waiting for the magic moment when the dawn sun breaks through the clouds.