Busy lives strive to abandon the spirit from places we carry with us. The day-time window beckons the soul, while the fingers tap and the pen push, the mind is wondering lonely fells giving birth to infant streams. The hunger for solitude searches for intimate landscapes becoming intimate places within our hearts. While alone we miss the company of others, in the landscape a journey out becomes a journey in. Office days become wasted years as the trappings of modern life fade the memory of an old footpath walked long ago by a younger man.