Category: Great Ayton
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The Teachersâ Bridge
A comment on an old post prompted me to take this photograph. It shows the River Leven meandering lazily through what was once the grounds of the Friendsâ School in Great Ayton. The water tumbles over a small weir on the left, adding a touch of drama to an otherwise tranquil scene, while the so-called…
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Cliff Rigg Scallywags Hideout
A year ago, I wrote about the Great Ayton Scallywags Patrol, a secretive Auxiliary Unit stationed in the area during the Second World War. Unlike the familiar, shambolic image of âDadâs Army,â these men were part of a covert Home Guard unit. If the Germans had invaded, they could expect to last about a weekâhardly…
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A Water Tank, Legal Loopholes, and the Persistence of Bloodsports
One of my first photographs on this blog featured an abandoned concrete water tank below the escarpment of Great Ayton Moor. I had visited it often as a checkpoint on various orienteering courses. On a sunny day, its corrugated tin roof gleamed with a rich, rusty patina. Sadly, the roof has not survived recent storms.…
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12 February 1933: Hitlerâs Message to Britain
On 12 February 1933, Great Ayton would have been its usual quiet self on that Sunday morning. Most of the villagers would have been dutifully attending church, the weather was dreary, and the temperature was barely above freezing. A drizzle added to the general cheerlessness. After church, families would have eaten their Sunday dinners, perhaps…
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Walking on Water: What Happens When Public Paths Are Washed Away?
This photo has been on the cards for a while now. Itâs one for posterity. The river, as rivers do, is steadily eating away at the bank. Sooner or laterâperhaps next year, perhaps in tenâ that electricity transmission pole will keel over, and Holmes Bridge, if it is still standing, will connect to an island…
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4th February, 1921: Redundancies at Roseberry Ironstone Mine
His day began long before any sensible person would even consider waking. At 4:30 in the morning, he and his wife dragged themselves from their bed, greeted not by comfort but by the biting cold. The morningâs first ordeal was the outhouseâan unenviable journey in deep winter, where snow, ice, and the ever-present risk of…
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The Wurzelweg of Larnerâs Hill
I have walked this path up Larnerâs Hill to Captain Cookâs Monument more times than I care to count. Where it winds past Round Hill Wood, exposed tree roots have formed what could generously be called natural steps. Supposedly, this is a Public Bridleway, though one would have to admire the optimism of anyone attempting…
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Flocking Together: Hebridean Sheep and Sheepdog Training
I heard, through the ever-reliable grapevine, that this small flock of Hebridean sheep at Aireyholme Farm is being used to train a young sheepdog. Predictably, just before this photo was taken, the dog had had its lesson, and the sheep were beginning to calm down. Hebridean sheep are apparently the darlings of the sheepdog training…
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The Bullfinch: Bouncer, Thief, and Reluctant Songbird
Ah, the Bullfinch. Black-headed Bullies. Blood-Olphs. Whatever you prefer to call them, here they are, battling the winter like pint-sized gladiators. The sun, feeble and disinterested, barely filters through the foliage as I trudge back to the village along the River Leven. A few shrivelled leaves cling stubbornly to the trees, while dead Dock stalks…
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Winter’s Teeth
Sometimes, one stumbles across a so-called fascinating photograph in the most banal of places. I happened upon this forest of icicles whilst driving into Middlesbrough. On the return journey, I abandoned the car in a field entrance and voila. There is an aesthetic beauty to ice-shoggles, as they were once called in the Cleveland dialect,…