Daily photo No. 2: Diamonds and Rust

This one was taken on Carnedd Llywelyn in February 2009. Out with some friends escaping the industrial midlands and our lives for a day, we experienced all the weathers: burning sun, rain, thick fog (which cleared at one point to reveal that we were standing on a shelf of ice and snow projecting out from the quite high mountain), and we saw everything from weasels to eagles.

I always take pictures of fences and rust. Fences because their regularity gives interesting perspective and focal points to undulating landscapes, but also because I fundamentally reject the idea of delineating what should be public land (which in my view, is pretty much all of it - I'm a huge fan of the Kinder Scout Trespass and Benny Rothman). There's a long and proud tradition of socialist and Communist walking and cycling cultures, as my friend Mike Cunningham and others have established, and without their contribution the countryside would still be closed to most of us. Every time you hop a fence on Prince Charles's 54,000-acre country estate or destroy a trap set for birds of prey, you're channelling the spirit of these pioneers.

Aesthetically, I like rust because it's so textured and because it's a handy reminder of mortality and entropy. This photo is also slightly remarkable for me because I used flash, something I virtually never do, unless it's a bit of fill flash in strong sunlight. It works here because it gives such a strong contrast with the surroundings.

Also, rust gives me an opportunity to post one of my most beloved songs ever: Joan Baez's bittersweet reflection on the end of her relationship with Bob Dylan, 'Diamonds and Rust'. I notice with some horror that it was released the year I was born - 1975. Her voice is beautiful on this one, the tune is deeply moving and her lyrics turn ordinary words into poetry. I particularly like the slyness of 'speaking strictly for me we both could have died then and there'.