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Wishing time away in the Dales

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This will be the first Christmas for many a year that I haven’t kept a photographic diary to remember it by. My camera lies forlorn, awaiting repair or replacement. I’ve been out walking in Ribblesdale without my digital companion but the outings don’t seem the same, and without the excuse of stopping to take a picture the walks have seemed harder – or the fatigue might be down to festive excess. I talked to a farmer this morning who said he was bringing some pregnant ewes nearer the farm. Some will start lambing in around 5-6 weeks he said and there’s much harsh weather still to come. My photo was taken on a lovely mid March day without any hint of winter around – how nice it would be to be able to skip the next two months… but any money I can muster will be going on a new camera and not on a sunshine trip to the southern hemisphere.

Memories of a white Dales Christmas

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Remember Christmas Day 2010? Snow had been falling for a couple of days but the clouds opened up to reveal a glorious clear blue sky on the 25th. I headed up Ribblesdale where the Three Peaks wore wispy scarves of light low cloud mixed with loose blowing snow. The handful of customers in the Station Inn at Ribblehead gave a cheery welcome; further along the road down Chapel-le-Dale at the Hill Inn was this icy greeting. Sadly it doesn’t look like we’ll be treated to a snowy landscape this year – just as well seeing as my camera is still on the blink – but I hope you enjoy a fabulous Yorkshire Dales Christmas just the same.

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All I want for Christmas…

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My camera’s been playing up recently hence the lack of activity on this blog. The dreaded ‘Err099’ message appeared on the display, which all Canon users will recognise as being code for ‘not the foggiest idea what’s wrong, mate – probably a big bill to follow’. I gave it a good clean and took it for a spin this morning. It worked long enough for me to take this shot showing the familiar outline of Ingleborough against a turbulent sky, and the early sun trying force a way through. But the camera spluttered to a halt once again. After almost ten years and more than 17,000 photos with a camera that cost just over £400, maybe some would say I’ve had my money’s worth. Have you got the hint, Santa? Merry Christmas.

PS there was a fair gathering of snow on the top of Ingleborough.

The way the wind blows

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‘Tha looks a reet bugga in that ’at, Paul,’  a neighbour commented in his best Yorkshire accent as he saw me setting off on my stroll. ‘At least it keeps my ears warm,’ I replied rather pathetically and defensively. (Anyway, that girlie umbrella he was carrying didn’t do him any favours either, I thought to myself far too late for it to be a witty riposte.) I’ve not had the chance to capture much on camera for my personal diary/blog recently, apart from these trees which took my fancy as the sun dropped low in the west. There’s no doubt about the direction of the prevailing wind which passes through this part of Ribblesdale is there? A friend told me recently that her young granddaughter asked whether trees ever got lonely. Children are wonderful thinkers aren’t they – that is until adults start mucking up their minds.

Natural memories in Nidderdale

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On dreary, wet Sundays like today in the Dales I’ll happily browse through my photo diary to see what I was doing around the same date in the past. December 11, 2009, I was out and about in Nidderdale enjoying Nature’s creations at Brimham Rocks. Funny how easy it is to see human form here, silhouetted against a bright winter sky. I remember this day in particular because it was the first time I’d ever been to the famous rocks and there be not another (real) human there. The views were fantastic and I thought ‘what a lucky chap I am’.

Content with erratic sculpture in the Dales

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The Hepworth Gallery and Yorkshire Sculpture park have some excellent exhibits. But  to enjoy natural and unusual sculptures, a short walk up to Norber above Austwick, near Ribblesdale in the Yorkshire Dales, will do just as well. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been in amongst the erratics of Norber’s fields – even as a schoolboy on geology outings – but every time I go I see something different. I’m sure the object in my picture trotted on a few yards when my back was turned (I must stay off the Red Bull when out walking). Restrictions on this blog mean that justice can’t be done to panoramic shots like this one taken from Norber so you’ll have to take my word that it was glorious in this morning’s sunshine.

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When a picture paints a thousand words…

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I’m working on a new feature for The Countryman called Classic Countryman in which I will reproduce some fine writing from the magazine’s archive. One series I’ve enjoyed researching is titled ‘Why I live in the country’ written by well known people in the 1930s. They talk about ‘getting away from the madness of the city’ and enjoying the ‘peace and quiet’. For me the main reason ‘Why I live in the country’ is being able to absorb views such as these looking over northern Ribblesdale this morning. You just don’t need any fancy words, do you?

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May the force be with you in the Dales

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The mist was hanging low over the moors above Stainforth in Ribblesdale this morning. Look at the top of my photo of Catrigg Force and you’ll see just how low. Following the last time I’d puffed and wheezed my way up the steep track from the village to the falls, about two years ago, I’d promised myself that next time I’d carry a tripod with me to take one of those fancy waterfall shots that arty photographers like to fashion. But I forgot the tripod again. The sound of cascading water echoed around this great amphitheatre, but with no birds chirping and a lack of wind to rustle the trees, today it felt an eerie place to be on my own.

Lucky to be in the Dales

St Mary’s, Long Preston, Ribblesdale, looked wonderful this morning – so lucky to live here.

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Serpent of the Dales

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I spotted this rare two-horned dinglewart tree serpent near Ingleborough during my break in the Dales this afternoon. Its tongue, horns, protruding fang, right eye and ear are clearly visible and you certainly wouldn’t want to come across one of these things in fading light. They feast on dinglewarts, an endangered species of small furry mammal which are now confined to this corner of Yorkshire and also a tiny section of Peruvian rain forest. Locals tell of an evil curse surrounding the slithering serpent:
If into the serpent’s eyes you stare,
Grey will become your head of hair.
And should the serpent not be fed,
Into cowclap you will tread.

I’ve already suffered that indignity this week and my hair couldn’t get much greyer so I scarpered quickly and took this photo of Ingleborough through autumn trees at St Leonard’s, Chapel-le-Dale.

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