Category: Roseberry Topping
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A Forgotten Quarry—With a view of Roseberry
A broken down dry-stone wall enticed me to scramble over for a gander and I stumbled upon an old sandstone quarry I never knew existed with a view of Roseberry from an angle I’ve not seen before. Ah, the uncomplicated pleasures of discovery. It wasn’t a large quarry, and a quick count reveals it to…
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The Roseberry Hoard — Replicas and Repatriation
Recent news of the Prime Minister’s disregard for his Greek counterpart in the matter of the Elgin Marbles rekindles thoughts of some of our own antiquities, currently languishing in some remote museum — the Roseberry Hoard. In 1826, with George IV perched on the throne and the Stockton and Darlington Railway a mere twelve-months old,…
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On This Day in 1971 — The Cairngorm Plateau Disaster
Memory, a slippery eel, isn’t it? We’re nearing 60 years since JFK was shot in Dallas—tomorrow’s the day actually, 22nd November. I can still see my dad’s face, shocked by the news as we sat around our black and white telly, flames dancing in the open coal fire. Meanwhile, young me just pondered why the…
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Toad-under-a-harrow
At first, it’s all dreary drizzle, the kind that makes you question your decision to leave the comfort of indoors. But wait an hour, and the heavens part ways, allowing the sun to cast its golden glow upon Roseberry, turning it into a vision against the still brooding rain clouds. A rainbow always spruces up…
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United Nations Day
With the promise of rain in the forecast and a list of errands to do in Stokesley, a swift blast up Roseberry was the imperative for the day. “How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man?” In 1962, so Bob Dylan sang, and, during my formative years, I couldn’t…
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Storm Babet
A deserted High Street in Great Ayton. Not a soul in sight. Everyone’s hunkered down. For me, a pluvious and tempestuous battle up Roseberry, though I skipped the summit. A short walk, leaving the rest of the day for housework. There’s an Old English word that suits our usual cleaning routine — ‘scurryfunge.’ It means…
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Woolly Wanderers on Roseberry Common
On Roseberry Common, a flock of sheep takes refuge from the rain and blustering wind amidst the sterile shale remains of an old jet quarry. A hundred and fifty years on, Mother Nature’s still struggling to reclaim the spoil left behind from the hunt for that fossilised wood of the Monkey Puzzle tree, deposited on…
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A Cup of Tea or a Pass: Deciding on ‘Este Jesus Cristo que Vos Fala – Livro 3’
On yet another driech day, the summit of Roseberry stood free of its cloudy cap, and there was a swarm of early risers climbing up. One couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of sponsored walk in progress. The other day, I stumbled upon an intriguing discovery – a book titled “Este Jesus…
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Woke Showdown: National Trust vs. Restore Trust
Ah, Roseberry Topping, Yorkshire’s Matterhorn, one of those many places the National Trust looks after. Now, in 2020, the Trust issued a report, a bit of a mouthful, called ‘Addressing our histories of colonialism and historic slavery.‘ They wanted to tell about how their 93 historic houses are tied up with the British Empire, the…
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St. Bartholomew’s Day
A rather dull start to St. Bartholomew’s Day, a day which has some weather lore associated with it: If the twenty-fourth of August be fair and clear, Then hope for a prosperous autumn that year. At St. Bartholomew, There comes cold dew. All the tears that St. Swithin can cry, St. Bartlemy’s mantle wipes them…