Early autumn - the time when the hills come alive with the flowering of the heather, like the spreading of a rich purple cloak.
Where shining purple heather stretches far across the moor,
and the lapwing's cry above me takes the place of traffic roar.
And peace comes drifting gently, there's no place I'd rather be
than this land of hills and valleys, from the Pennines to the sea.
'A Symphony for Yorkshire' Doreen Brigham