Category: North York Moors
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Oak boughs in a wild dance
The snow persists giving an almost monochrome image of Newton Wood, a predominately oak woodland. The sombre boughs stretch out endlessly, weaving intricate angles and twists, forming a chaotic yet captivating network that reaches both upward and downward. It is a common belief that oak woodland is the original vegetation of much of lowland Britain…
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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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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…
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“T’ back-end’s ola’s t’ bare-end”
I stumbled upon a Facebook post the other day claiming Cumbria has five seasons. The fifth, the Back End, supposedly hits between Autumn’s fall of leaves and Winter’s icy grip. Having woken up to a dusting of snow on the Cleveland Plain this morning, I headed with high hopes up onto Urra Moor, the highest…
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Graeme’s Legacy — The history of Grime Moor
On a dull overcast day, I found myself volunteering with the National Trust at their Bridestones property. The sun, playing hide and seek in the clouds, occasionally showered the moor with some spectacular lighting. Our task was on Grime Moor, supposedly named after Graeme, a onetime local landowner. We were making habitat piles from felled…
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Ingleby Bank woods — where two bodies were found hidden
Looking down on Hagg’s Gate from the crest of Cushat Hill. Hagg’s Gate and Cushat Hill, names no one uses nowadays. Ingleby Bank, on the other hand, is a name that has roaming issues. The O.S. map claims it’s the slope of that ridge on the other side of the vale of Greenhow. But it’s…
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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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From Shinrin-Yoku to Komorebi
For those of us who’ve practically become one with nature by running through every type of forest imaginable, here’s a revelation: the Japanese have a term for it – ‘shinrin-yoku.’ In layman’s terms, it’s ‘forest bathing.’ Californians, ever the trend setters, are all over it. So, have I been a forest-bather all this time? Now,…
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Wind, Rain, and the ever-changing Bridestones
The geological makeup of the North York Moors primarily comprises strata of sedimentary rock, deposited beneath the waters during the Jurassic Age. As the Jurassic sea level rose and fell, rocks of various densities were left. Over time, wind and rain tirelessly eroded away at these rocks, reshaping the landscape. Here at the Bridestones, the…
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From Spider Bites to Scorpion Stings: DEFRA’s Leadership Labyrinth
On a rather dreich stroll across Urra Moor, the swirling clouds over Bilsdale managed to inject a bit of interest into an otherwise lacklustre affair. Now, I had it in my notes to have a whinge about Thérèse Coffey’s decimation of the 2010 consensus concerning the future of our public paths. Today seems an opportune…