After breakfast we had only to wait for the last of our companions to join us, then we were off to explore. We planned on walking up through Heber’s Ghyll to the moor beyond. These weekends are not about how many miles we can walk or how many sights we can see, they are about being children again in a landscape of wonder and imagination. Heber’s Ghyll is a fairytale wood.

Black Beck tumbles down the hillside in a constant cascade of purity and you walk with its song around you. Small birds and butterflies dart through the trees and the light paints the undergrowth viridian and white. We leave the path early, forging through the leaf-litter and bracken towards an arrangement of stone that may well be natural, but has the feel of something more.

Crude steps lead up to the rocks, either modern or worn by the feet…