Evening, Cumbria

Lorton, Cumbria.The heat lets up with the setting of the sun, but, typically for this time of year, light lingers in the sky until late. It's my favourite time of day: light still enough to find one's path through a gate and across a field, but too dark to navigate safely among trees. The sky's a mottled grey overhead, distantly roiling with high-up wind. Rain spits and then relents. It doesn't last on the pavement.The hills around me are dark and looming. The feeling is at once imposing and cozy. I don't know how else to explain it. I love to huddle down in the lee of a big dark hill, in the shadow of a mossy moorside as it gets darker and dimmer until it's nothing but a hulking silhouette against the sky. A while ago, Sam and I camped out on The Calf in the Howgills, deep down by an abandoned sheepfold in a pathless gully. I reckoned that no one would ever find us there by the beckside; and then lived to regret the long climb back up out of the gully in the morning.I follow the dark…