A Seasonal Walk Through the Peak District Lanes

Spring: The Lanes Waking Up

By early March the lanes around the village begin to change. The verges, cut short through winter, start to green up and the first colour appears on the sheltered banks that face south — lesser celandine, those small glossy yellow stars that open only in sunshine, and the first shy violets tucked beneath the hedge roots. Keep an eye on the gritstone walls, too. Between the stones you will find moss, hart's tongue fern and the beginnings of the years' growth, all of it fed by the steady drip of water that never quite dries out in these parts.

By mid-April the wood anemones are out under the ash and sycamore, and then, right on cue, the bluebells arrive. In the Peak District they tend to flower from late April into the middle of May, and the deep lanes below the village — the ones cut so far down between walls that they feel like tunnels — are the best places to find them. Ramsons, or wild garlic, follow close behind; you will smell them before you see the white flower heads, and a handful of leaves makes a fine soup if you are confident of your identification.

Summer: Deep Shade and Hay Meadows

Once the leaves are fully out, the lanes become cool, green corridors. On a hot July afternoon there is no better place to be: the canopy of ash, wych elm and field maple closes overhead, and the walls hold the day's warmth long after the sun has moved round. Cow parsley and red campion line the verges, and the hedges are busy with whitethroats, wrens and the low hum of bumblebees working the bramble flowers.

This is the season for early starts. Walk before eight and you will have the lanes to yourself, with mist still sitting in the valley bottoms and skylarks going up over the hay meadows. Later in the day the horseflies and clegs make their presence felt, so long trousers and a little repellent are sensible. Haymaking usually begins in late June or early July, depending on the weather, and the smell of newly cut grass drying in the sun is one of the great pleasures of a Peak District summer.

If you keep a few hens or a small flock, this is the busiest stretch of the year. Water troughs need checking daily, shade matters, and the hay crop has to be got in between showers. It is worth remembering that the lanes are working routes as well as walking routes — tractors and trailers use them constantly in summer, so step into a gateway when you hear an engine.

Autumn: Crisp Leaves and the First Frosts

September brings the hedge harvest. Hawthorn berries redden, sloes darken on the blackthorn, and the hazel nuts in the lane-side coppice are worth checking in early September before the squirrels take the lot. Blackberries are best picked from the sunny side of the hedge and away from the busy road verges, where spray and dust settle.

The leaves turn first on the field maples and rowans, then the ash, and by late October the lanes are ankle-deep in beech and sycamore. Walking them after rain is a particular pleasure — the smell of damp leaf mould, the scrunch underfoot, and the low sunlight slanting across the walls. Mushrooming is tempting, but only ever pick what you can identify with absolute certainty, and always leave plenty behind. By the end of the month the first proper frosts arrive, which sweetens the parsnips, finishes the last of the outdoor tomatoes and signals that the livestock will soon be brought down to the lower fields for winter.

Winter: Frost, Ice and Hedge Laying

Winter strips the lanes back to their bones. With the leaves gone you can see the shape of the landscape — the walls running up the hillsides, the field patterns, the old tracks that the hedges were planted alongside centuries ago. Ice is the real hazard: the lanes hold water in the ruts, and a hard frost turns them into something close to a skating rink. Gritters rarely reach the narrowest ones, so a boot with a proper grip and a walking pole are worth the bother.

Traditionally this is the season for hedge laying and wall repairs, done between October and March while the sap is down and the stock is off the fields. If you see someone working a hedge with a billhook and a set of stakes and binders, stop and watch for a few minutes — it is a skill worth learning and there are still people in the Peak who will teach it. February is also when the ewes come in for lambing, so keep dogs under close control and on a lead wherever you see sheep.

Walking the Lanes Well

• Gates: always leave them as you find them, and never prop one open for convenience.
• Dogs: under control at all times, on a lead around livestock and during the bird nesting season.
• Parking: never block a gateway, a passing place or a farm entrance — the lane is somebody's workplace.
• Footwear: something with a deep tread for mud and ice, plus a spare pair of socks in the car.
• Kit: a paper map, a waterproof, water and a charged phone. Signal is patchy in the dales.
• Roads: single-track lanes have blind bends. Walk facing the traffic and step onto the verge when a vehicle comes.

The Rhythm of the Year

Walk the same lane every week for a year and you will notice things that no guidebook will tell you — where the first bluebells always appear, which wall the wrens nest in, the exact week the ash comes into leaf. That familiarity is the real reward of country living. The lanes do not change dramatically from one day to the next, but they change constantly, and there is always something worth stopping for.