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Dredging Up Trouble on the Tees
The tanker Stolt Auk slips past a derelict wooden jetty at South Gare, heading for Rotterdam. The jetty is older than the Gare itself, built before 1888, and once served the North Riding (Fortress) Royal Engineers as part of the river’s coastal defences. It now stands abandoned, a relic of an industrial past that never…
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The Belt of Venus
I came across an article the other day about the Belt of Venus. It is one of those quiet marvels the sky puts on without fuss, turning up often enough, yet missed by most people because they are too busy staring straight at the sunset or sunrise like moths at a bulb. The trick is…
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Newton Wood and the Afterlife of a Dying Ash
Just after dawn, Newton Wood sits under a light dusting of snow. The sky is a hard, clear blue. Bare deciduous trees stretch their thin arms upward, as if hoping for better weather later. Left of centre stands a prominent ash tree. Its trunk is tall and thick, brutally pruned and cut short. It looks…
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Snow on Great Ayton Moor
Despite the cold and the driving snow, the figures about to pass on this path on Great Ayton Moor carry a quiet determination. The dog walker pushing into the headwind shows a calm determination, choosing fresh air and motion over comfort. His dog, meanwhile, remains happily unaware of the brief, restless drama of the falling…
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Grey Weather and Old Ways on Newton Moor
A crisp, delightful morning on Newton Moor, in spite of a forecast that promises trouble. A depression over the Baltic is dragging down sharp northerly winds. That slab of grey on the horizon looks close enough to touch, yet, if that is so, it will be hanging over Scandinavia. In the foreground runs a straight,…
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The Maid of Buttermere
Back home now, back on my own patch, yet the pull of the Lakes refuses to loosen its grip. I cannot leave without telling the tale of the Maid of Buttermere, a story that has clung to the valley like the morning mist on the fells. It is an eighteenth-century mix of beauty, trickery, and…
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Burtness Comb: A Watch Lost and a Frozen River
Burtness Comb hangs above Buttermere like a great green amphitheatre, tucked between High Stile and High Crag. I once picked my way down it during the Lake District Mountain Trial in 1978. Somewhere on that bracken-choked slope, there may still be an orange-faced Omega watch, a twenty-first birthday gift, quietly keeping time for no one.…
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Crummock Water And its Tombolo
On the west shore of Crummock Water sits a small oddity that likes to keep a low profile. It is said to be the only example of its kind in the Lake District, which is no small boast for a strip of stones. This feature is a “tombolo”, a gravel beach about 50 metres long…
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The Slow Making of Buttermere and Crummock Water
That flat sweep of rich green pasture is not there by chance. It sits on the land bridge between Buttermere and Crummock Water, quietly doing the job of keeping the two lakes apart. It was built by a geological feature known as a fan-delta, courtesy of the steady graft of Mill Beck. Long before maps…
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Aitkin Knott and Keskadale
A sweeping, high-angle view drops into Keskadale, better known as the Newlands Valley, seen from the brown, heathered spine of Ard Crags. At the end of the ridge sits the small knoll of Aitken Knott. Here Earl Ackin, a leading Norse-Cumbrian lord and brother of Earl Boethar, was buried, set high above the land where…
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