Category: North York Moors
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Ingleby Manor and Lady Mary Ross’ Spectral Odyssey
I’ve wanted to post a photo of Ingleby Manor for quite some time now. However, the Grade II* Listed building is shielded from view by a formidable stand of lofty lime and oak trees. From this vantage point on Turkey Nab, one can just make out, albeit faintly on this murky morning, the rooftops nestled…
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Raddle me this
I awoke under the weather, got talked into taking a Covid test. Lo-and-behold, the little red line made its appearance, and my ailment took a turn for the worse. Fresh air, my trusty remedy, beckoned. Raindrops drumming on the windowpanes, I embarked on a brief, low-level stroll. “Raddle,” a peculiar term. Readers of Thomas Hardy…
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A moment in time — frozen ponds, Cleveland Way, and an impending transformation
I took this photograph with an eye toward history. It’s a scene on the brink of transformation. A couple of frozen ponds glisten at the low point between Round Hill and Badger Gill on Urra Moor. They drain southward into Hodge Beck—Bransdale. The Cleveland Way stands out as it crests the hill, slightly to the…
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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…