Tag: Yorkshire Dales

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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Views worth the embarrassment

giggleswick scar

The Yorkshire uplands were certainly no place to be baht ‘at today.  I squeezed in an hour on the limestone above Giggleswick Scar after lunch. By gum it weren’t half nithering but the views over Settle and down Ribblesdale were splendid. Managed to slide on my backside through freshly deposited cow muck… and had to drive home baht trousers.

Happy with my hippy theory on the Ribble

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I have this sort of hippy style belief that rivers don’t have a start and finish but are just a continuous flow of water in a cycle involving clouds-land-sea-clouds. I was asked the other day where the River Ribble starts – having given my hippy theory and receiving a blank look in return, I went through the stock answers. But I do wonder why humans feel the need to have a beginning and an end to everything? We must have a measurement too – how long, how high, how deep, how wide… etc; we’re always trying to portray something that’s natural in terms of a man-made unit. Perhaps it’s just another of our attempts to feel in control of the natural world. Instead of calculating it we should just embrace Nature, like a true landscape artist would. I told my friend that there is a difference between the ‘source’ and the ‘start’ of a river. The Ribble’s source is mainly the watershed of Cam Fell and surrounding fells. Water trickles down the fells forming Cam Beck, Gayle Beck and lots of smaller tributaries which join to form the Ribble near Selside, at the place shown in my photo – a rather boring ‘start’ for this mighty river on its 75-mile voyage to the Irish Sea don’t you think? I prefer my hippy idea.
I also caught some lovely autumn light and a cloudless sky above Penyghent on my way back down Ribblesdale today.

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