Last of the moor finds for the year, as it turned out, though the notebook only knew that in hindsight and added it at the write-up. Cupwith is a small reservoir and not many go up, which is in its favour. The path climbs out of Slaithwaite onto open moor, and on a cold clear November morning with the light low and long — the way November does it, the notebook says, and there's no improving on that — it's as good a place as the district offers.
Right boot, brown, laces missing, on the moor path itself. It had weathered a full season, the leather cracked across the toe. November light is good for photographs if you get the angle right, and I got the angle right, or right enough; the notebook doesn't complain, and it complains when there's cause.
I sat ten minutes, no more. The stool stays home that time of year — that's been policy since I got it in 2016, as a wet moor in November is no place for the legs of a folding stool nor the legs of me — and the wall were damp, so ten minutes stood and half-leant were the ration. Flask conditions very good. Cheese and pickle. Then down into Slaithwaite with the light going gold behind Pole Moor and the year's moor work done, though as I say, I didn't know it yet. If I had known, I might have stopped a minute longer at the top. But the record shows ten minutes, and the record is what we go by.
Written up August 2026, from the notebook.