Category: Easby Moor
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A Stone that Once Mattered — A Forgotten Boundary
A low-angle view of a nondescript triangular stone, half-buried in a bleak expanse of dry, brown heather. The pale sandstone stands out against the darker, tangled vegetation, with the occasional patch of golden rushes breaking the monotony. In the distance, the low hill of Easby Moor stretch across the horizon, its gentle slopes leading to…
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A Red Grouse, the Civil War, and Pennyman‘s Delinquency
This Red Grouse, clearly unimpressed by my presence, stood its ground clucking defiantly as I trudged up Easby Moor. Its red wattle gave away its gender, maybe it was trying to attract a mate. Back in the 17th century, grouse would not have been hunted to the same extent as today but still might have…
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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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Clouds over the North Sea
Ah, another crisp, cold morning with a blue sky. The sun, though, seemed to be having a leisurely lie-in. The reason all became clear atop Capt. Cook’s Monument. A bank of cumulus cloud hovered menacingly over the North Sea—not the friendly fair weather sort, mind you, but cumulus congestus, puffed up and self-important, like galleons…
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The Tory Party, 1832-2024
It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of the Tory Party, beloved overlord, on 5 July 2024 after a long and terminal decline. The Conservative and Unionist Party was founded in 1832 from an alliance between the Tory and Whig parties to defend the existing order against radical reform. Once widely respected,…
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From a Scenic View to Deadly Plots: The Cato Street Conspiracy
On the parish boundary between Easby and Kildale, looking through the self-seeded birch wood toward Ward Nab, a sandstone outcrop the origin of which name escapes my grasp. Therefore, I must lean on hodiurnal past happenings for the rest of this post. In the tumultuous throes of economic strife and political unrest in the early…
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Easby Moor from Roseberry Topping
The names Easby and Roseberry both derive from Old Scandinavian, but what did the Deiri tribe, nestled snugly between the Humber and the Tees rivers, call these places? Picture Deira as the precursor to Yorkshire, holding court in York. But Deira wasn’t a territorial area. It seems more like a robust dynasty. The exact genesis…
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Yat stoops on Easby Bank
On a morning with ever-changing atmospheric conditions, I found myself in pursuit of that elusive sun. The weather played tricks, switching between drizzle and dullness one moment, and dazzling sunlight accompanied by rainbows the next. Thus, an opportunistic approach in selecting a photograph for today’s posting. This pair of ‘yat stoops‘ located on Easby Bank…
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Christmas Contemplations
On this eve of Christmas Day, I found myself deep in thought. It seems a mere five minutes since last year. Maybe it’s just because of that old chestnut: “time flies when you’re having fun.” Each morning I do wake up excited as to what adventures the day will bring. Dopamines, those pleasure-inducing chemicals, supposedly…
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Inversion Intricacy — The Cleveland Hills from Easby Moor
We left the village this morning, enveloped in a thick fog, anticipating its prompt dispersal under the forecasted sunshine. Soon, intermittent patches of blue sky overhead began to play a fickle game. Only as we finally ascended through the murky haze to Easby Moor at 324 metres asl., we found ourselves above the clouds, affording…