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Kirby Knowle: A Castle with Two Names and One Too Many Stories
Towering above the western edge of the quiet village of Kirby Knowle, this brooding grand house is marked on Ordnance Survey maps as “Newbuilding.” The estate agents, less taken with that name, now refer to it in brochures as plain Kirby Knowle. The asking price is £7 million, in case you are tempted. The “New…
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Over Silton Church
Alfred J. Brown, that tireless chronicler of the North York Moors, once suggested the little church at Over Silton was tucked away in its hollow below the village to avoid the attention of marauding Scots. Given the long history of Scottish raids into northern England—starting as early as the 11th century under King Malcolm III—it…
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Reflections at Lonsdale Quarry
Lonsdale Quarry was fully operational during in 1874, run by a Mr Grievson. It was likely the source of stone for Christ Church in Great Ayton, opened in 1877. The quarry is now quiet, a place for solitude and reflection. But it also holds a bleak memory. One Monday in May 1874, quarryman James Smith…
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Seave Green: Through the Lens, Again
It is always a letdown to return home thinking the day’s photograph might be worth something, only to discover I have stood in the same spot, pointing the camera in precisely the same direction, years before. So it went with this view of Seave Green in Bilsdale. Today, Seave Green passes for a hamlet, though…
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Swifts on Roseberry, Silence on Easby Moor
It has been a while since I last stood on Roseberry, looking down on clouds. And even longer since I came up here on a Saturday. Most seemed to have taken the yellow thunderstorm warning as a cue to stay indoors. Easby Moor, with its pointed monument to Captain Cook, rose clean above the mist.…
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When the Beck Runs Dry: Hob Hole’s Ancient Ford Revealed
The word was that Baysdale Beck at Hob Hole Wath had dropped so low the old ford surface was showing. Thank you, Stephen. I could not resist. Hob Hole has drawn picnickers since the Edwardian age. The name alone — ‘hob’, likely from ‘hobgoblin’ — conjures something hidden and tricky, a haunt of creatures best…
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“Flobbadob-adob … Weeeeed!”
Sunflowers always remind me of Little Weed from The Flowerpot Men, a television nostalgia from my childhood. She — if that is the right word, given her ambiguous gender and equally uncertain botanical identity — played the role of quiet confidant to Bill and Ben, the babbling flowerpot duo. Like other daisies, sunflowers are composite…
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Yan Tan Tether Mether Pip …
Old Molly Metcalfe counting sheep Yan tan tether mether pip she counted Up upon Swaledale steep and bleak Yan tan tether mether pip she said… So sang Jake Thackray about a Yorkshire shepherdess. It is tempting to think her sheep-counting chant is native to Yorkshire alone, but its roots run far deeper. The method likely…
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The Weather According to a Dead Bishop: Forty Days of Rain
Climate change deniers blame nature for everything. Heatwaves? Natural. Floods? Just weather being weather. Human emissions? Nothing to see there. Meanwhile, chemtrail believers take a different route entirely. For them, extreme weather is no accident but a masterstroke of global puppet masters, quietly spraying secret cocktails into the sky to bend the climate to their…
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The Stone They Left Behind
A rough-cut sandstone block lies abandoned at the top of an old quarry on Ayton Bank. It first appears on the 1915 Ordnance Survey 25-inch map. One wonders what caused the sudden stop—tools downed, the block left where it was, after the time and effort it must have taken to cut it, shape it, and…
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