North York Moors

“I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.” Emily Dickinson

In the background the heather can be seen, always a heart-warming sight as I associate it with home and the surroundings I knew so well as a child. Beautiful heather moorland lies at the very heart of the North York Moors National Park. Unenclosed and unsurpassed, this stunning landscape has a quiet drama all of its own. Responding sensitively to the changing seasons, the moorland is a special place whatever time of year. The call of the moorland birds characterise the early summer and, as the summer evenings draw in, the flowering heather turns the moors into a purple carpet stetching for miles across the open vistas. In winter the moors can be exceptionally beautiful, inspiring artists and writers and providing a wonderful opportunity to brush away the cobwebs of daily life or to simply stand and stare.

Heather YOU talk of pale primroses, Of frail and fragrant posies, The cowslip and the cuckoo-flower that scent the spring-time lea. But give to me the heather, The honey-scented heather, The glowing gipsy heather-- That is the flower for me! You love the garden alleys, Smooth-shaven lawns and valleys, The cornfield and the shady lane, and fisher-sails at sea. But give to me the moorland, The noble purple moorland, The free, far-stretching moorland-- That is the land for me! Flora Thompson

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