I worked yesterday, and today's Lakeland forecast wasn't the best, so I did what normal people do on Sundays: I had a lie-in and took it easy. I can see Winter Hill on my daily commute to and from work, and if I'm honest, these last few months I hadn't been paying it that much attention until a couple of weeks ago when I started to miss the moorland, but being busy walking in the Lakes just meant the pull got stronger.

Given that I'm kind of free today, what better way to spend the evening than to plan a short walk on a favourite hill to catch the sunset.

I'd given myself a full two hours to complete a walk that usually only takes me an hour and a half, which meant I could switch my legs to the 'dawdle setting'. It had been a cloudy but dry day, and if the forecasters are correct, the best of the sunshine would come towards the end of the day.

Instead of gaining Two Lads first, I'll flank it and collect it on my way back.

The ground was a tad soggy as I left Rotary Way again in favour of a short walk over moorland just so I could take in the view over Counting Hill. Continuing on as the breeze began to nip, but not enough to untie the hoodie I'd knotted around my waist.

The view north from the summit over the village of Belmont was as always exquisite, even in the low light, as I tracked cars travelling along Belmont Road, passing the reservoir before slowing down as they entered the village. The longer I stood, the colder it got, so I returned to the summit, where I waited for the sun to finally dip below the cloud.

I made my way onto Two Lads, which was the boggiest of the two summits, and arrived to find the summit deserted. This wasn't the same for Rivington Pike, where I counted over half a dozen walkers who climb the pike most evenings to watch the sunset; tonight was no different. As it turns out, I was not alone when I was joined by two electric off-road bikes who thoughtfully weren't tearing up the place and slowed down as they shouldered Two Lads Summit and free-wheeled down the other side.

Silence again in a slight breeze that nipped at exposed skin, so I wandered across the shoulder of the fell not just to keep warm but to see the sun directly above Rivington Pike. The shot looked perfect, but it didn't look as good as the real thing after I viewed it again when I returned home. Just minutes left before the sun would dip below the horizon, leaving just a faded pink hue. I hadn't noticed the cloud clearing, allowing distant stars to appear before pastel greys turned into the night.