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Osmotherley Show, Thimbleby Hall and the Barwick Lineage
Among my most popular posts this year is ‘From Barbados to Morrisons—The history of Thimbleby and its owners.’ An observant reader noted that I had overlooked a significant chapter in this chronicle.Today, Thimbleby Hall opened its grounds for the Osmotherley Show, allowing the fell race to Black Hambleton and back. And an opportunity for me…
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A Cloud over Rudland Rigg and the Insects’ Plight
An uncommon veil of cloud swathes Rudland Rigg, seen here across the expanse of Farndale. In the foreground, a vivid member of the thistle family teems with insects eagerly gathering its nectar. It is a picture of health, yet beneath this tranquil surface, a serious calamity is unfolding. Even without the trained eye of an…
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Nature Reclaims Industry: Warsett Hill
A fishing smack chugging serenely towards his lobster pots off Huntcliff caught my attention. The morning is still and muggy, with overnight rain fizzling out and the sea as calm as a millpond. I have been working on the National Trust’s property at Warsett Hill, tidying up an old, decrepit post and rail fence. Acquired…
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Maiden Hair: From Dye to Deficiency
While the day was still fresh, as I wandered across Warren Moor, a vivid expanse of orange-yellow caught my eye. The bog asphodel, with its star-like blooms, presented a scene of rare splendour. Singularly, these flowers might escape notice, but en masse, they transform the landscape. Never before have I witnessed such a display on…
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The Colours of The Carrs
Ah, another stunning panorama from the summit of Cleveland’s iconic Roseberry Topping, captured countless times on phones and often graced by a selfie. It feels like I too have taken this shot so many times before. Below, the quaint village of Newton-under-Roseberry nestles, its new builds seemingly encroaching on the flat farmlands of The Carrs.…
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Welkin’s Cheek
Before “sky” became the common term for the vast expanse above us, it was poetically known as “welkin”—a word closely related to the German “Wolke,” meaning cloud, and even more so to “Wölkchen,” meaning little cloud. Today, the welkin offered a breathtaking sight for those who gazed upward. Shakespeare himself was no stranger to this…
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Framing the Landscape — A Nine-Year Retrospective
Nine years. Nine long years in which the world has undergone remarkable transformations: Brexit, Covid, Ukraine, the rise and—let us hope—fall of Trump, and the conclusion of Tory turmoil. Yet, some constants endure. For nine years, “Framing the Landscape,” that quintessential piece of modern art, that obtrusive metallic eyesore placed in a nature reserve, has…
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Flashback to the 1912 Olympics and Guisborough’s own Willie Applegarth
Last night I endured the grandiose parade that was the opening ceremony of the 33rd Olympiad in Paris. While it was undeniably an astounding spectacle on the Seine, it left me rather underwhelmed. An extraordinary production to be sure, but it dragged on interminably, with scenes so obscure they might have been devised by a…
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Snotterdale: A Dale by Any Other Name
A view south from Brown Hill, also known as Carlton Moor. On the left, is the shallow valley of Thackdale, which evolves, rather whimsically, into Snotterdale. Snotterdale, a charming offshoot of Scugdale, stirs fond memories. However, its beauty remains largely unseen by the public eye, devoid of Public Rights of Way. My exploration of its…
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Runswick Bay’s Ironworks Beneath the Cliff
Today I was at a National Trust property near Runswick Bay, a hidden gem previously unknown to me. Spanning a 5-hectare meadow, this land is a tapestry of ragwort, thistles, docks, and the occasional blackthorn and willow saplings, all requiring occasional management. The property also boasts 4.5 hectares of precipitous, overgrown cliff and approximately 225…
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