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Roseberry Topping’s Hedgerow: A Conservation Success Story
Hedgerows, those underappreciated lines of greenery crisscrossing the countryside, are not just decorative. They actually serve a purpose: holding soil in place, shielding livestock from the elements, and making rotational grazing less of a logistical headache. They also connect habitats, encourage biodiversity, and even drag a bit of carbon out of the atmosphere. Of course,…
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Roseberry’s Kissing Oaks
When two tree trunks or branches rub against one another long enough to wear away their bark and expose the cambium — the cellular plant tissue — they sometimes fuse into a single entity, forming what is charmingly called a natural graft. This process, termed “inosculation,” is derived from the Latin for “to kiss,” as…
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Rievaulx Abbey: A Picturesque View from an 18c Vanity Project
Charles Dickens, ever the enthusiast, was beside himself with admiration for Rievaulx Abbey, and who could blame him? This Cistercian marvel, nestled in a lush green valley and surrounded by dense woodland, is a particularly fine ruin—courtesy of Henry VIII’s systematic penchant for tearing down monasteries. Perched above it, Rievaulx Terrace lords over the scene,…
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The Scaur—Musings on Glaciers and Randklufts
I revisited an old stomping ground today—a route I came to know far too well during the 2001 Foot and Mouth epidemic, when it was the only slice of countryside not off-limits. Back then, it was decorated with the charred remains of several burnt-out cars, but these have now been swapped for a battalion of…
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An Overlooked Old Quarry on Scarth Wood Moor
What a difference from yesterday morning, with super lighting on Scarth Wood Moor. Here we have a disused sandstone quarry, now absorbed into the landscape, grazed by sheep and cattle. According to the National Park Heritage Records, it dates to the early 19th century. Meanwhile, the National Trust, who actually own the moor, appear to…
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Slacks Wood Quarry And a Stream of Many Names
A dreich morning. Rain, wind and low cloud forced me to keep low, sticking to the woods where I could at least avoid the worst of the weather. This meant I had little choice but to focus on the minutiae. Hence this stream. It cannot even decide on a single name. Near its source on…
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Whitby’s Forgotten Monastery and Its Founder, Mother Thekla
I stumbled upon a podcast months ago, half paying attention, about Mother Thekla (1918–2011). Teacher, nun, founder of an Orthodox monastery at Normanby near Whitby, and spiritual inspiration to Sir John Tavener. Whitby caught my interest. A quick map check suggested it might merit a visit someday. Today was that day. I could not get…
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Windermere and its History No One Wants to Discuss
It was a bit wet this morning in the Lakes, so here is a photograph from yesterday’s walk up Wansfell instead. This is, of course, Windermere, England’s largest lake, famed for its picturesque scenery but cursed with a history no postcard could capture. And I don’t mean the recent sewage discharge debacle. A favourite with…
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Wansfell to Kirkstone and Rosa’s Vanishing Echoes
A gentle stroll today, nursing our tired legs from previous heroics. Here is Wansfell, gazing northward at a line-up of Red Screes, Kirkstone Pass, Stony Cove Pike, High Street, and Ill Bell—quite the roll call. Kirkstone Pass, that lofty col between Ambleside and Patterdale, lent its name to an inn that once basked in the…
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Charles Gough’s Fatal Ascent and his Dog’s Vigil
It has been some time since I last dragged myself up Helvellyn via Striding Edge. Definitely before the pandemic chaos. This photograph, taken around midday, gazes slightly east of south. St. Sunday Crag and Fairfield flaunt a dusting of snow. A marvellous day: cloudless peaks, sub-zero temperatures, and a wind that was brisk enough to…
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