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Nature’s Canvas on Whorlton Moor
Of all the boulders on the North York Moors, this is perhaps my favourite. It rests nestled in the heather on Stony Ridge on Whorlton Moor, but back in the last ice age, it would’ve been getting a good washing from the waves along the shore of Lake Scugdale. Now, in places where fungi and…
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Brathay Hall — “Mr. Law’s White palace – a bitch!”
Brathay Trust is based in an elegant 18th Century Georgian country house. It was built by George Law, the son of an Attorney who was involved in Backbarrow ironworks. On his death, in the West Indies in 1802, the house passed to his son Henry, who rented it to John Harden, a gentleman with connections…
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Galava
Borrans Field, at the northern end of Lake Windermere near Ambleside, is the site of the Roman fort of Galava. Today, the field was flooded, despite the lake being a good two metres below its 2009 watermark. One can only hope the Romans knew what they were doing, building on a floodplain. This fort, in…
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Rydal’s Rainy Reflections
Not a day fit for photography, thanks to the never-ending rain. I managed to grab this photo while perched on Lanty Scar, the northeastern ridge of Loughrigg Fell. Across Rydal Water, cars on the A591 sport their headlights. Rydal is supposed to be a contraction of Rothay-dale, and is actually placed in a narrow gorge,…
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Wordsworth woz ere
An outlook spanning Great Langdale to Stickle Ghyll, featuring Harrison Stickle and, adjacent on the right, Pavey Ark, its formidable crag wall softened by the mist. Wordsworth once found himself taken aback by the bleat of a lamb, resounding from Pavey Ark, while standing by Stickle Tarn. A recollection of that very sound inspired a…
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Long Meg and Her Daughters
On a sodden expedition to one of the remarkable and enigmatic ancient marvels in the north of England—Long Meg and Her Daughters. Long Meg, a towering 4-metre monolith of red sandstone, stands apart from her ‘daughters,’ which form a large circle. Reportedly, there are approximately 68 daughter stones, erratics likely displaced from the Lake District…
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Confronting Storm Gerrit and hunting Nessie in Newton Wood
On a day that could only be described as dire, I ventured out to confront the tempestuous forces of Storm Gerrit. With a strategic approach, I sought refuge primarily within the protective confines of Newton Woods. In my last posting, but one, I mentioned ‘pareidolia’. This is the tendency to see images of animals, faces,…
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A Boxing Day Tradition — The Hunt
I chanced upon the Great Ayton Boxing Day Hunt today. A traditional affair, you know. Had completely slipped my mind. Christmas, a season steeped in tradition, yet this one leaves a sour taste. Every Boxing Day, the hunt assembles at the High Green in Great Ayton. Same old spectacle of well-appointed riders, splendid horses, and…
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Hogmena
Captain Cook’s Monument was busy this morning. Plenty of folk working up an appetite for their Christmas Dinner. Me, I dropped down the slope a bit and played with my pareidolia. I always believed hogmanay is the name for the New Year celebrations in Scotland, yet it transpires that a related term had found currency…
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Christmas Contemplations
On this eve of Christmas Day, I found myself deep in thought. It seems a mere five minutes since last year. Maybe it’s just because of that old chestnut: “time flies when you’re having fun.” Each morning I do wake up excited as to what adventures the day will bring. Dopamines, those pleasure-inducing chemicals, supposedly…
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