I had a glorious day on Sunday. Having spent the morning in the hustle and bustle of Middlesbrough town centre I had decided to spend the afternoon on the moors.

I walked from the house with the two dogs and my partner Nick, straight up to the top of the nearest large hill. This just happens to be cringle moor, so it was quite a long and strenuous march.

It's all right for the dogs; they have smaller legs and a lower centre of gravity. We used to have a golden retriever. She was so big and strong that she would pull you up the hills. That's just not going to happen with the short-legged terrier we have now.

The route up begins with a small country road. The hedgerows here were absolutely bursting with brambles, hawthorn berries and sloes. Clouds of sparrows (pictured right) burst out from behind the dark green ivy curtains as we passed by. They were obviously taking advantage of summer's fruity bounty.

I hope they leave me a few. The blackberries will go well in a crumble, a nice easy pudding, and I will be back in a fortnight or so to collect the sloes to steep into Christmas gin.

I once made hawthorn brandy. It is supposed to be a calming tonic, and very good for regulating high and low blood pressure. It certainly took your mind off any of life's stresses, but it tasted a bit odd, so I haven't made it since.

Half way up the hill we all stopped to take in the view. Well, it was to catch our breath really, but the view certainly merited a good long pause. As we sat we could smell the warm rising air on the very slightest of breezes. The combine harvesters ate up the fields below, actively churning up clouds of corn dust. I suspect that it has been a decent crop this year.

I closed my eyes and took in as much sensory information as my brain could handle to file away for grey miserable days.

I suddenly became aware of a crackling in the bushes all around me. It was perfect conditions for scrub fires. I was whisked back to flashbacks of my childhood days in Africa when the regular burning of the bush brought heart-thumping walls of flames sweeping up and past the front gates. I opened my eyes and looked for signs of smoke, but couldn't detect anything. I realised that it was coming from the gorse bushes. It wasn't fire, but the popping of seedpods, brought on by the hot weather.

Woken from the spell of summer, we carried on up the slope. We made it to the top then came back down. On the way we came across some newly excavated ponds. They were fishing lakes, but as no one was using them we stopped to watch swallows and house martins swirling above the water and diving in to collect liquid sustenance on the wing.

A passing flock of goldfinches bubbled past. They landed on the patch of thistle heads that were just going to seed. It's no wonder they are so hard to attract into the garden, as we pull out most of their food sources as weeds.

Strolling back home I felt relaxed and fulfilled. I had managed to blow the urban cobwebs from my head, and replace them with the soft warm smells, sounds and sights of summer.

JOBS FOR THIS WEEK

Take cuttings of evergreen shrubs

Choisya, laurel, daphne, ceanothus, and just about any evergreen shrub can be propagated by cuttings taken now. Push the sections in a sandy compost, in a cold frame if possible and out of direct sunlight for a month or so. Remember to water regularly, especially during warm spells.

Plant bulbs

This is the start of the winter and spring planting time. They are already appearing in the garden centres. Go out now whilst the healthiest bulbs are in the shops and get them in the ground as soon as possible. This saves the mad November panic when you remember that you haven't done it yet.

Pick up windfalls

Apples, pears and plums need to collected a soon as they fall so that they don't start to decay and entice nasty diseases, pests or fungus into the garden.

Published: 09/08/2003