Tag: National Trust
-
The Track Through Hall Wood
Hall Wood in Farndale hides a solid, well-made track, the sort that suggests purpose and history. It is said to have led to a sawpit. If so, it kept its secret well today. I found the path, but not the pit. The wood was less forthcoming than the National Trust’s heritage records. Timber once mattered…
-
Access Without Respect
A pack of a dozen mountain bikers bursts down the newly rebuilt, stone-stepped path on Roseberry Topping. Several are motor-assisted. Gravity does the rest. Gravel skitters, walkers flinch, gates are left yawning behind them. For a few loud seconds the hill is theirs, claimed by speed and noise. It looks impressive, in the way a…
-
The Hidden Life of Newton Wood
All was quiet in Newton Wood today. No leaves rustling, barely a bird bothering to sing. Colour drained away. Even the fungi looked as if they had clocked off. Appearances mislead. Fungi are like icebergs. What shows above ground, the mushrooms, is only the fruit. The real organism is the mycelium, a vast web beneath…
-
Initials in Stone, Mist in Motion
I stood on the summit of Roseberry Topping this morning, watching the mist drift over the fields below like a slow tide. The place felt as old as the hills, quiet enough to hear your own thoughts. Looking down at graffiti cut into the rock centuries ago only sharpened that feeling. I am guessing, of…
-
Filling the Gaps on a Bransdale Hillside
A return to Bransdale, where last winter the National Trust planted 6,000 saplings onto the steep side of Bloworth Slack. The site had been clear-felled, a blank but messy page waiting for a better story than rows of timber grown for profit. To give the youngsters a fighting chance, the usual tree guards went in.…
-
Beyond Apathy — Learning to Care Again
Appreciation of nature arrives like sunrise through a dark forest. What was once the shadow of youth becomes colour. Grass, rock, heather all minding their own business, doing it well. For the moment the world makes sense and you do too. You are small, but not spare. You fit. That is enough. Then, darkness returns.…
-
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…
-
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,…
-
A Glimpse of a Windhover
Despite spending at least two hours outdoors on most days, close meetings with nature are actually quite thin on the ground. There is the odd distant view, a brief flicker at the edge of sight, usually gone before my patience can catch up. My bird identification skills are basic, but even I know this much.…
-
A Long View from Cockle Scar
Scar, scarp and escarpment have a knack for muddling people. The landforms overlap, and to add to the fun a scarp can carry several scars on its own back. Despite how they look, scar is not related to the other two. It comes from the Old Norse “sker”, meaning crag, with a nod to “sgeir”.…