Dales Meadows, Madness and a March Mellow

There’s no point me prattling on about what a mad March it has been. I turned 67 at the start of the month and can’t remember a more strange time to be alive. Although, I do have recollections of 1962-3 when winter seemed to go on for ever. There was an ice slide which we kids created that lasted from December into March. They had to extend the football season then, and it looks like that will now happen again except for entirely different reasons.

Top and above, meadows and mist in the late sunshine near home.


At the time of writing, the Dales countryside is open but judging by the ridiculous number of people who decided to spend their unexpected ‘holiday’ here over the last few days, I’m wondering if the government might well now crack down on travel. I’m all for people taking a walk, getting fresh air and enjoying the scenery, but let’s be sensible about it. All the usual Dales tourist hotspots were heaving with people – bigger crowds than at many football matches I’ve been to (but then I do support Huddersfield Town). The ice-cream even set up in Horton. Come on, folks. This is deadly serious. As some of you know, my son runs a cleaning-caretaking business and despite the fact that much personal hardship will follow, and the threat of losing customers, he has decided to cancel all bookings for the time being to help stop the virus from spreading.

Isolation at the deserted village of Thorns, near Ribblehead.

So much for me not prattling on … anyway, the photos I’ve put together here were all taken on solo trips, during quiet times, close to home and far from the madding crowds…

Ancient Thorns Bridge; below, the 24 arches of Ribblehead Viaduct – all the photo needs is a train.
This distant shot of Penyghent looked a lot better in real life than on screen. You’ll just have to believe me.
Another technically poor shot of Penyghent but I couldn’t resist the light seen from several miles away at Ingleborough Nature Reserve.
Hard to believe that the above and below photos of Penyghent were taken just 48 hours apart.
Classic view of Ribblesdale from Winskill. Always worth a look.
The colour of the sky tempted me out of the house around 6pm the other evening for a few shots around Langcliffe.
Dales
Embracing the mellow sun. St John’s, Langcliffe.

A Walk at Sunset

When insect wings are glistening in the beam
Of the low sun, and mountain-tops are bright,
Oh, let me, by the crystal valley-stream,
Wander amid the mild and mellow light;
And while the redbreast pipes his evening lay,
Give me one lonely hour to hymn the setting day.

William Cullen Bryant (1794 – 1878)

Yorkshire surnames here

One thought on “Dales Meadows, Madness and a March Mellow”

  1. As many of us are following advice to isolate I have to confess that when “cabin fever” looms
    large – I live alone and I do feel the call of open spaces and indeed I chasten my instincts to escape and throw caution literally to the wind and out in the wild remote places with a blast of air to sharpen my lungs. I believe that as there are so few out and about – I’m doing no harm
    Thank you for your recent post – I’m just about to get the dog in the car – my backpack stocked with necessaries – I need open spaces

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