Out & About …

… on the North York Moors, or wherever I happen to be.

Tag: folklore

  • A’ Thomasing: A Quaint Custom for St. Thomas Day

    A’ Thomasing: A Quaint Custom for St. Thomas Day

    Yesterday was St. Thomas Eve, or so I gather from the indisputable evidence of my own post about it. Naturally, this means today, 21 December, must be St. Thomas Day—a grand occasion for destitute medieval widows, who marked the day by going “a’ Thomasing.” That is, begging for alms. In some places, it was called…

  • A Dreary Day, a Doubtful Saint, and Too Much Christmas

    A Dreary Day, a Doubtful Saint, and Too Much Christmas

    A dreary, cold day, though mercifully not freezing, but with rain looming. St. Thomas’ Day Eve—dedicated to the patron saint of doubt—drapes itself in the sort of gloom that makes you wonder why you bothered to look out the window. That housing estate west of Guisborough in today’s photo? I had been blind to its…

  • Tales of Runswick Bay: Treasure, Tragedy, and a Hobgoblin

    Tales of Runswick Bay: Treasure, Tragedy, and a Hobgoblin

    Ah, Runswick Bay, a charming spot on the Yorkshire coast. A sweeping sandy beach curves dramatically towards the village, which clings precariously to the hillside like it is not quite sure why it‘s still there. Originally, the village was a little further, perched towards the rocky headland. That was until 1664, when a ground-slip sent…

  • Where are all the Holly Berries?

    Where are all the Holly Berries?

    Two years ago, I posted a photo of a holly tree, heavy with bright red berries, a cheerful sight that now belongs to history. That tree has since been unceremoniously axed, part of the grand plan to reduce tree cover on Roseberry Common to a mere 10%. Why? To prevent the Common from succeeding into…

  • Robin Hood’s Bed: Erosion, Myths, and Grouse Shooters’ Wine

    Robin Hood’s Bed: Erosion, Myths, and Grouse Shooters’ Wine

    Our return journey across the M62 was, unsurprisingly, rather more foggy than the outward. This, coupled with a smidgen of common sense, deterred any whim to revisit Blackstone Edge. Thus, I here is instead another photograph from yesterday’s wander, of the rock formation bearing the pretentious title of “Robin Hood’s Bed” or, to vary the…

  • Autumn Leaves and the Forgotten Tradition of Mischief Night

    Autumn Leaves and the Forgotten Tradition of Mischief Night

    From the village up to Cliff Rigg, the Hall Fields footpath wends its way through this dense copse, and at most times the trees loom rather ominously, as though a scene from some gothic tale. But today they are dressed in the splendour of autumn’s palette. Each leaf, it seems, is vying to display its…

  • Bracken, Oaks, and their Folklore

    Bracken, Oaks, and their Folklore

    Bracken—our most invasive ground cover, steadily browning itself to perfection. How marvellously it complements this oak woodland on Cockle Scar, on the west-facing slope of Roseberry. Who needs daffodils or bluebells when you can have a decaying fern carpeting your view? And did you know that bracken is charmingly referred to as the ‘oak fern’? Apparently,…

  • From Drainage to Divination: The Cheshire Stone’s Secrets

    From Drainage to Divination: The Cheshire Stone’s Secrets

    I recently stumbled upon the theory that a stone – the Cheshire, or perhaps the Cheddar Stone as some insist on calling it – perched on on the edge of Urra Moor, has a natural basin which has been carefully modified in prehistoric times by the addition of a notch to channel the water outflow…

  • Michaelmas Traditions: From the Devil’s Brambles to Cabbage Wars

    Michaelmas Traditions: From the Devil’s Brambles to Cabbage Wars

    One of my favourite sights is the spectacle of a temperature inversion in Bilsdale, when the mist rolls over the Cleveland Hills like a waterfall, spilling into the plain below. Such was the view this morning, on this day of St Michael’s Feast, or Michaelmas. Michaelmas, celebrated on the 29th of September each year, marks…

  • Roseberry’s Witches and the New Myths We Embrace: A Continuum of Credulity

    Roseberry’s Witches and the New Myths We Embrace: A Continuum of Credulity

    According to the quaint tales of yesteryear, Roseberry Topping was once a preferred haunt of witches. Picture, if you will, three Ayton men, trembling with fright, witnessing a trio of broomstick-riding hags circling the summit and executing some arcane ritual, while sorrowful wails echoed through the night. The villagers, in their infinite wisdom, deduced that…