Month: October 2023
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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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Bigod’s Rebellion and Nicholas Cockerell’s Loyalty Test in Commondale
This morning I awoke to find a reminder in my calendar. It told me that on this very day back in 1536, King Henry VIII got tough on the Pilgrimage of Grace rebels. Now, naturally, I pondered where I could saunter off to today that might have a smidgen of relevance to that dusty tidbit.…
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Gallow Howe
In the hallowed depths of Whitby Museum there is a grisly relic — the ‘Hand of Glory,‘ a mummified hand with a sinister past. Unearthed in the early 20th century by local historian Joseph Ford, this macabre exhibit is allegedly the preserved right hand of a criminal, amputated while still hanging from the gallows. It…
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From Scugdale to America
Trudging wearily along the rugged landrover track across Whorlton Moor, passing by patches of scorched heather, you could smell the aftermath of yesterday’s burns. At long last, I reached the northern side of the moor. Below me sprawled the peaceful Scugdale valley, and up there, at the head of the dale, lay that broad col…
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Ah, the joys of heather burning season
It’s the delightful season of heather burning, and I found myself on Hasty Bank, the perfect vantage point to witness the breathtaking spectacle of over a dozen smoke columns gracefully dancing across a vast 180° panorama of the North York Moors, stretching from Gisborough Moor to the majestic Black Hambleton. In the photo above, these…
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Sunday Morning Coming Down
Though Johnny Cash’s song is as clear as crystal about solitude, the blues, and the foggy haze of a Sunday morning after a wild Saturday night, it oddly echoes the serenity of this particular Sunday morning, which coincided with the first frost of the season, a gentle nudge reminding us of the impending winter’s chills.…
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Coal Dust and Grief: The Senghenydd Colliery Disaster of 1913
An afternoon’s saunter on South Gare, where the Tees River meets the sea. A remarkably high tide, a strong westerly breeze, and a rainbow glistening on the roaring waves. Or should I perhaps refer to that as a ‘spray bow’? Cobwebs duly blown away, I thought about how I could relate Britain’s worst pit disaster,…
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Helmsley Castle
During a brisk stroll through Duncombe Park, well before the weather took a turn for the better, I couldn’t help but notice that despite its vastness, there aren’t many designated paths for a leisurely amble. I found myself occupied for a spell, exploring the remnants of the WW2 army camp, but it was Helmsley Castle…
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Ulpha and the Traveller’s Rest Inn
I’m still recounting my adventures in the Lake District last weekend. Monday turned out to be a real gloomy one, with clouds hanging low and some drizzle here and there. I reckon I caught a glimpse of the sun once, but those rugged hilltop views remained elusive. As I descended from the murky heavens, the…
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Seathwaite Tarn
Nestling in the cupped embrace of the Coniston Fells lies Seathwaite Tarn, all glittery and serene. It’s wrapped up by a wild autumn tapestry of dull olive, blazing copper, and pale maroon, sprinkled with a hint of grey cliffs and little patches of piney green. The fickle sky’s in a sullen mood, draping the shadowy…