Category: North Yorkshire
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Echoes of Disaster: The Kettleness Landslide
Kettle Ness, as seen in the photograph across Runswick Bay, presents a grim and barren face, stripped of vegetation. I have read that, with care and a sharp eye, one might discern the dark line of the jet seam, beneath which lies the greyer alum shale, and lower still, just above the wave line, two…
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Stinking Nanny’s Surprise: The Pungent Power of Ramsons
Ramsons, those delicate flowers of the forest floor, hold a secret. Typically, they signal the presence of an ancient woodland, flourishing in the quietude of undisturbed soil. But here lies a peculiar sight: these ramsons are thriving amidst the confines of a railway cutting. An anomaly, indeed. As I ventured deeper into Newton Woods, a…
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The Ghost of Madame Turner
Barely a glimpse of Busby Hall can be gained from the limit of the Public Bridleway which follows the old coach road leading to the estate. Remarkably, this track once served as the main entrance. Presently, entry is gained through the village of Carlton-in-Cleveland. Pevsner, the architectural historian, offers a description of the hall as…
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Ashmore, Benson, Pease and Co.’s tank at Rounton Grange
Rounton Grange, the ancestral home of the Bells, is now a bit of a no-show, given that the house was demolished back in 1965. The site’s now reverted to woodland. But a few buildings in the grounds are still hanging on. Like this one with an unmistakable cast iron tank proudly sporting the name of…
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Beyond the Mist — The Battle of Stokesley
This morning, the air on Great Ayton Moor was crystal clear, but away in the south-west, a low mist crept up the Vale of Cleveland, making the wind turbines at Seamer look like they’re levitating. That white house yonder caught my eye. Turns out, it’s Howe Hill. Now, I can therefore take a brief detour…
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The Friends’ School’s Plan for Invasion in 1914
Dominating Great Ayton’s soggy High Green, this soggy Monday morning is the stern façade of the erstwhile Friends’ School, now converted into residential dwellings. The village well, no longer in its original spot, was moved to make room for extra car-parking. I recently read an account detailing the school’s arrangements in case of a prospective…
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“Gerroff Moy Land!” and don’t even look at it
On this rather dreich morning, I found myself compelled to focus my photographic endeavours closer to home. When I first moved into the village, the scene before me would have been an open field stretching toward a gate nestled in the distant hedge. However, as time has gone by, the path has become enclosed by…
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The Ghost of Stokesley Town End
Yet another tale spun by the industrious quill of Cleveland’s venerable chronicler, Richard Blakeborough. This piece has lingered on my to-do list, biding its time for a fitting photograph. Regrettably, my patience has waned. Let this image of Aireyholme and Cliff Rigg suffice. Look closely, and the roof tops of Stokesley reveal themselves in the…
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Hutton Rudby and its history of cockfighting
Hutton Rudby must be one of the prettiest villages in Cleveland, particularly when adorned in the splendid hues of autumn. However, beneath this picturesque facade lurks a shadowy past. Despite the outright ban on cockfighting in England with the Cruelty to Animals Act of 1835, the so-called ‘sport’ persisted well beyond the legal decree against…
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A Pluviophile’s Paradise — Strolling by a Swollen River Leven
Earlier today, I was told, the renowned TV doctor, Dr Michael Mosley, graced the airwaves to sing praises about walking in the rain. In a routine I’ve adhered to my entire adult life, I can’t recall a day when I haven’t ventured out for my daily exercise, regardless of the weather. Evidently, rain confers a…