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Bombweed, a Hall Built of Basalt and German POWs
The vivid pinks of Rosebay Willowherb blaze across summer landscapes, yet most pass them by. Known as Fireweed, it is often the first plant to reclaim burnt ground. That was not always the case. The Georgians treated it as a rarity, grown in gardens rather than spotted in the wild. Even in 1853, the Reverend…
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Goathland: A Nice Little Earner
A misty start and a downpour overdue from June left little chance for photography this morning. So here is another one from yesterday: the tourist-magnet village of Goathland. Avoiding the coachloads is nearly impossible. The village spreads around a broad common where sheep graze as if unaware they are in a postcard. A posh sign,…
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Crossing the Murk Esk and the Dream for a Canal
I have passed through Grosmont many times before, yet somehow missed this ford across the River Murk Esk. It sits quietly at the foot of Lease Rigg, one of a pair of crossings of the river that seem to defy both logic and geology. The cliff rising on the eastern side makes it clear why…
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The Slow Decay of Belmont Mine
It is disheartening to see the old mine buildings at Belmont Ironstone Mine partially collapsed. Built around 1909, they may not be the grandest examples of industrial architecture, but they are likely the most intact surface remains of any ironstone mine in the Cleveland area. Remarkably, some sections are still used as stables. In the…
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From Helmsley to the Moors: Where Exactly Is Blackamoor?
Blackamoor is the old name for both the wider moors and the northern end of the Hambleton Hills—though modern maps prefer this as the more polite “Black Hambleton.” For most of the year, the name “black” suits the moors. Barring a brief burst of ling bloom or a winter’s snow, the moors always have a…
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Highcliff Watches, Barley Shines
This morning’s walk over Bousdale Hill had the familiar silhouette of Highcliff Nab looming in the distance, but it was the barley that stole the scene. Almost fully ripe, it glowed in the light. I remembered a daft tale from childhood—barley heads tucked into your sleeve would supposedly “walk” their way up. Never did for…
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Operation Starfish: A Decoy on the Moor
It is widely known around here that this brick structure on Percy Rigg was once a World War Two control bunker, part of a secret Air Ministry plan to protect British towns from German bombing raids. The scheme relied on decoys—an unusual mix of science and theatre designed to mislead the Luftwaffe. Wikipedia devotes a…
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Of Dogs, Grouse and Bureaucratic Logic
My trusted weather source, yr.no, claimed with confidence that rain would begin at noon. The climb from Guisborough had been hot and close under a humid sun. At 11:50, standing on Potter’s Ridge, the sky had turned grim. A few minutes later, the rain came — sudden, heavy, and, in truth, rather welcome. I had…
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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
Today’s photo looks down the steep, green slope of Roseberry Topping’s 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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