Category: Roseberry Topping
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Before the Ling: Bell Heather in Bloom
The moors will soon flush lilac with the bloom of Ling, but for now it is the Bell heather that holds court. Its deeper purple has lit the hills for weeks. This sweep across Ingleby Moor is the broadest I have seen. Bell heather usually prefers modest clumps, favouring dry ridges, crag tops, and path…
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Route Choice Down Roseberry
Todayâs photo looks down the steep, green slope of Roseberry Toppingâs northwestern flank. Below, Newton-under-Roseberry sits quietly among ripening fields. To the right, thick woodland hugs Bousdale Hill in dark contrast. What caught my eye was the wide grass path on the right. It appears to follow the Right-of-Way, though anyone trusting this blindly would…
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Ogy Ogy Ogy: Elegy for a Dog Named Skip
From the Great Pyramid to Trumpâs sad obsession with giant flagpoles, mankind has always clawed at meaning. Mere survival is never enough. They must carve something, build something, paint somethingâanythingâto shout, âI was here!â Whether it is a monument propping up social hierarchies, a prize history will laugh at, or for those with less talent,…
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Summer Solstice on Roseberry
I had not expected the summit to be empty, but the quiet that met me was unexpected. A small crowd sat scattered on the rocks, all facing east, waiting for the sun. They were silent, respectful, marking the midpoint of the year with stillness. Even the stonechats seemed to join in, their song fitting the…
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Foxgloves and Stone
The bright purple foxgloves inject a sharp burst of summer colour into this view of Roseberry Topping, the conical shape of which remains instantly recognisable even from its backside. The rough dry-stone wall that cuts across the scene, adds texture and, for me, some interest. Yesterday I was out on the coast with the National…
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Of Brass Monkeys, May Blossoms and Other Perils
Growing up in Nottingham in the early 1960s, I shall never forget me mam barking ânaer cast a clout till May is outâ whenever I dared venture into the Spring air without full Arctic gearâduffle coat, string vest, probably a balacalva too. She assumed, and I dutifully followed, âMayâmeant the month, which made sense given…
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Yorkshire’s Pride: The Enduring Allure of Roseberry Topping
It has been some time since I inflicted a post about Roseberry Topping upon the world, the conical-shaped hill that looms over this northeastern corner of what is the historical county of Yorkshire, albeit a recycling of previous posts. Local pride being what it is, they have long called it âtâ highest hill iâ all…
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On this Day in 1936, the Iconic Trig Pillar was Born
On 18 April 1936, a small band of surveyors gathered around a concrete pillar in a field in Cold Ashby, Northamptonshire, to begin the retriangulation of Great Britain. The previous effort, from the early 1800s, had apparently become too out-dated to be useful. Thus began the era of the trig pillar: those four-foot concrete obelisks…
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When the Fool Returns from Africa: Musings on Cuckoo Day
I was spared the indignity of rummaging through an empty pocket for loose change on my Monday climb up Roseberry Topping, which is just as well, since I heard no cuckoo. According to local superstition, todayâApril 14thâis âCuckoo Day,â the date when this allegedly symbolic bird is supposed to announce its return with its distinctive…
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Furze: Fodder, Folklore, and the Smell of Coconut
A sudden change in the weather, as if the sky has grown bored. No more sun-drenched optimism; just a grey sheet of disinterest overhead. Still, Roseberry manages to look charming, despite being surpassed by the only plant capable of making scrubland smell like a tropical cocktail â gorse. Its yellow blooms, reeking of coconut and…