Since we moved to Dove Holes last month we've had typically changeable April weather, albeit a few degrees colder perhaps than we were used to living down in Manchester. As I write, the snowflakes that were swirling past the window fifteen minutes ago have given way to the same bright sunshine that arrived unheralded yesterday afternoon and prompted me to head out for an impromptu wander along the footpaths by the village.
I headed to the northern end of Dove Holes and joined a bridleway that leads steadily but gently up towards what's left of Bee Low. Once a substantial hill with its own trig point, Bee Low has been gutted by extensive quarrying over the years and I'm guessing it must have been taller than it's current elevation of 1355 feet, even if only slightly. Certainly the trig column that stood at the top has gone the same way as the ancient limestone bedrock that once supported it.
