Month: January 2025
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Four Years On: From Relief to Dread
A dreary morning on Great Ayton Moor, perfectly suited to my mood. Four years ago, I posted about watching Joe Bidenâs inauguration as the 46th President of the United States. It was the first time I had ever bothered with such a ceremony, accompanied by an immense sense of relief. Today, there is no such…
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Bold Venture Gill
The public footpaths through Highcliffe Farm have been diverted. Fascinating. I am sure there is an entirely compelling reason for depriving the public of paths they have used for decades. Perhaps the landowner fancied some peace and quiet, or maybe there was a pressing need to shift things about for reasons too profound for us…
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Flocking Together: Hebridean Sheep and Sheepdog Training
I heard, through the ever-reliable grapevine, that this small flock of Hebridean sheep at Aireyholme Farm is being used to train a young sheepdog. Predictably, just before this photo was taken, the dog had had its lesson, and the sheep were beginning to calm down. Hebridean sheep are apparently the darlings of the sheepdog training…
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Saplings and Shotguns: A Day in Bransdale
A thrilling day of digging in sunny Bransdale, planting Bloworth Wood with saplings. The chosen species were native: oak, hazel, alder, and Scots pine. Once upon a time, Bloworth Wood was a joyless conifer plantation, but thanks to the National Trust, it has been clear felled with the grand dream of establishing a ânaturalâ woodland.…
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Brume, Roke, and Other Vapourous Delights
There is something magical about mist creeping up the dales of the North York Moors, at least if youâre being sentimental. Behind me, the mistâsorry, âbrumeââwas crawling up the Vale of Mowbray, but that was less of a spectacle than this show over Raisdale and Bilsdale. Speaking of brume, it is the ideal word for…
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A Walk along Hasty Bank to the Sound of Gunfire
A return to Hasty Bank along a lovely trod, an old favourite, thoughtfully chosen to avoid the paved motorway of the Cleveland Way. What a transformation from three days ago, when there was proper snow cover. Now the snow has almost melted away, revealing the bleak âbare bones of winter,â as some poet once lamented.…
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The Light: Conspiracy Bile Delivered Direct to Your Letterbox
There I was, about to embark on my virtuous trek up Roseberry Topping, coat in hand, when a free newspaper crashed through the letterbox like an unwelcome guest. A relic of a bygone era, I thought, since such things had ceased to grace my street years ago. Still, the design carried a whiff of credibility,…
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POW! WHACK! The Circus Returns to Town
On this day in 1966, the campy spectacle of Batman made its debut on American television. Adam West donned the cape, Burt Ward chirped as Robin, and Cesar Romero refused to shave his moustache to play the Joker. Although by the time it hit British screens, I was too old, but I remember it well.…
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Bilsdale and the Curious Journey of Road Salt
Another thrilling morning on the North York Moors. Freezing temperatures, frost blanketing the valley, and snow still stubbornly clinging to the high ground. How enchanting. This is a view of Bilsdale from Hasty Bank. For days now, the gritters have been tirelessly scattering salt as if the very fate of civilisation depends on it. It…
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The Bullfinch: Bouncer, Thief, and Reluctant Songbird
Ah, the Bullfinch. Black-headed Bullies. Blood-Olphs. Whatever you prefer to call them, here they are, battling the winter like pint-sized gladiators. The sun, feeble and disinterested, barely filters through the foliage as I trudge back to the village along the River Leven. A few shrivelled leaves cling stubbornly to the trees, while dead Dock stalks…