Before the spring equinox, the sun slips down away from my Cromer coastline, so I’ve been on the hunt for a hill high enough to capture the splendour again.

Beeston Bump and Incleborough hill are two hills formed from ancient glacier movement.

The secret green tracks from the village green lead gently up the hillside. Incleborough hill -an elegant climb unlike Beeston bump, where the effort supersedes any pleasure from the journey. Beeston, nearer the coast, claims a rawer theme with its tales of Black Shuck and the more recent remembered murmurs of the WW2 radio vantage point.

On Incleborough, the mud track turns to moss – a sunshine patchwork of emerald green, stitched with wild yellow daffodils. You weave you way up between the golden gorse, ambling, wasting time waiting for the sun to slip down, long shadows lacing through the bare twisting branches.