Category: North York Moors
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From Beak Hills to the Cotswolds: A Tale of Unequal Farming
Cringle Moor, as seen from Cold Moor across the eastern sweep of Raisdale. Below sits Beak Hills farm, your archetypal North York Moors operation. According to their website, they mostly breed sheep on 125 acres of valley pasture, with another 300 acres of shared grazing rights on Cold Moor. They have also embraced modern farming…
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Raisdale’s Constablewick and the Bones of Bert
This morning was cold, but not that cold. No puddles bore that brittle layer of “cat ice,” and the dead Bracken fronds remained frost-free. Compare that to last Saturday, when midnight brought a sultry 15°C, according to the car thermometer—a temperature fit for short sleeves. Earlier that day, as Storm Bert howled and hurled snow,…
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The Timeless Elegance of a Spray-Painted Phallus
This brilliant display of human ingenuity—sprayed haphazardly onto the ancient rock face on Roseberry Topping—is truly a sight to behold. The “artist,” undoubtedly a revolutionary thinker of his age and who clearly imagines himself—undoubtedly masculine, of course—as the Teesside Banksy, has chosen this timeless canvas to bless us with his daring vision. The frantic scrawls…
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Bert: From a Cockney Chimney Sweep to Meteorological Menace
A seemingly harmless photo that utterly fails to capture the ferocious winds and horizontal sleet of Storm Bert. Truly, a day only a fool would choose for photography. Thus, the muted colours of this image of Roseberry Topping are my sole reward after braving the tempest. The image does, however, showcase the dry-stone wall that…
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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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‘Twas frost and thro leet wid a o’ greymin snaw“
Oh, it was but the gentlest sprinkle, a mere whisper of winter—a “greymin,” they used to call it—scarcely enough to cover the tops of these two boundary stones on Newton Moor. The snow flurry arrived just as I was striding along the edge of the moor. There is nothing quite so invigorating as being caught…
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Highcliff Nab: A Crusty Puzzle
Highcliff Nab today, and an enduring puzzle on its crag face. Nearly the entire surface is smothered in light green lichen, except for one striking vertical band where the rock is inexplicably bare, as though the lichens collectively decided this spot was beneath them. Lichens, those delightful symbiotic oddities born of desperation between fungi and…
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Kildale’s Agrarian Past
A stunning view of Kildale, seen from the sandstone crags of Ward Nab. Kildale, with its postcard-worthy scenery and quaint stone buildings, represents the sort of agricultural nostalgia many enjoy romanticising. Yet, beneath this charming façade lies a tale of upheaval and supposed progress. In the 18th century, Kildale’s open fields were carved up through…
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Highcliff Nab and Autumn’s Troubling Showstopper
The woodlands are ablaze with reds, oranges, and yellows in what I might call a “dazzling display,” if I were given to such enthusiasms. Recent rain has kept the trees hydrated, and unseasonably warm weather has delayed their annual shedding. How quaint. I am on my way to Guisborough, following the forest track through Hutton…
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The Leaning Larch of Roseberry Common
A tree of little grandeur—stunted, battered, and twisted by all that the North York Moors can throw at it—leans, barely upright, on Roseberry Common, straining its gnarled branches towards Easby Moor, where the monument to Capt. James Cook RN stands. This, let us say, “larch” — and I am sure some arborist will leap to…