Photos of the Yorkshire Dales Paul Jackson Ribblesdale
I was walking in the rain over the bridge leading from Little Stainforth in Ribblesdale this morning when I heard the distant chugging and whistling of a steam engine. Standing on the bridge and getting totally enveloped by steam as the train passed underneath I was taken back to my childhood. Everything was black and white then of course so I’ve altered my photo to suit the era.
It was a joy to see and listen to the curlews up on the moors between Ribblesdale and Silverdale late this afternoon. the curlew spends summer in this area before following the Ribble to Morecambe Bay in late summer There were quite a few peewits too and I saw one defending its nest against a ragged looking sheep which had wandered too close. This was the best shot I could get of a curlew with my hand-held lens.
I’ve been tweeting more than blogging recently, for no other reason than to judge reaction. Results to follow! Having to sum up a mood or express a feeling in a restrictive tweet is perhaps a good exercise but it’s impossible to put across any kind of personality – in my view anyway. This lunchtime I traveled the lonely road from Tosside over to Bentham. There was no sunshine and the views didn’t stretch far but the mood was captivating. Looking out from Bowland Knots the recognisible shapes of Ingleborough, Whernside and Gragareth provided a fine silhouette. I’m going to have to start inviting some patient soul out with me on my meanders around the Dales; this seat just begs for an occupant looking wistfully out over the moors. I’ve tried using the camera’s delay-timer in the past, and dashing to an appropriate spot myself, but I always seem to ruin the shot.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
‘Feisty as hell beneath a blizzard of white hair, the painter Ashley Jackson is a pent-up ball of artistic expression. On a promise with a land he knows intimately, a force of nature, you might say…’ – so starts one section of a new book I’ve just read called Slouching Towards Blubberhouses by talented writer Tony Hannan. The chapter mirrors numerous conversations I had with Ashley during my time as editor of Dalesman. Above my computer is one of his prints showing an overcast sky at Choppard’s (Holmfirth) – a generous gift from Ashley when I retired. His work is unique and special; as a person he is down to earth and forthright yet fair minded. He has an artistic gift but he’s also a typical Yorkshireman – so no surprise he features in Tony’s book which light-heartedly tries to unravel what this Yorkshireness is all about and asks how much of an influence it has today. A great read. Published by Scratching Shed, £13.99.
A walk down Watery Lane in Settle today took me on a diversion down Memory Lane. I was reminded of my primary school days some fifty-odd years ago when a wonderful teacher, whose name I forget, used to take the class down a similar lane and into nearby fields. We were townies in the industrial West Riding but behind the school were a few meadows full of buttercups, dandelions and daisies (and cow pats) – and views stretching to the Pennine chain. She introduced us to wild garlic, bluebells, harebells and a host of other wildflowers, all kinds of berries and taught us the names of birds. On warm days we would create daisy chains. This was the era of Famous Five adventures; Swallows and Amazons, when the sun always shone and life-long friendships were created. Sadly, those times, along with the school and the meadows, are now gone; and teachers for one reason or another are unable to provide this kind of education. I moved from that area in my teens and am now lucky enough to live permanently amongst beautiful country lanes and meadows in Ribblesdale. The photo shows a view from Watery Lane over the allotments to Upper Settle (the last time I inquired, there was a two-year waiting list for one of these plots – a shame more land can’t be used in this way instead of being sat upon by landowners waiting to make a fat profit).
Celebrated artist J M W Turner loved this Yorkshire Dales beauty spot. He sketched Cotter Force in Wensleydale almost 200 years ago on his tour of the county. It’s a seductive place – a series of six short drops and simple symmetry in a small natural amphitheatre where dippers and kingfishers perform their startling aerobatics.
I’ve never heard such a racket in all my life. The noise from these sheep and lambs as they followed the farmer dropping off feed would have drowned out one of those pesky RAF jets that regularly fly over the dales. If you ever wanted an example of poor motherhood then here it was… the ewes had little apprehension over abandoning their lambs for a feeding frenzy, while the youngsters ran crazily around the field, bewildered and screaming for their errant parent! The scene reminded me of a wedding I’d been to where guests had waited ages for food, had a little too much to drink in the meantime, then suddenly converged on the buffet while the kids charged around the dance floor.
Above Stainforth in Ribblesdale, Yorkshire Dales.
Late afternoon on this grey day in the western Yorkshire Dales was brightened by the sound of birdsong drifting into the house through an open window. Just six feet away from my bedroom this swallow was perched on the telephone wire, chirping away and driving my cat mad. The bird was perfectly silhouetted to show off a classic swallow shape.
Felt the urge to visit Dent today – I just fancied that lovely drive up Ribblesdale towards Hawes before dropping down into delightful Dentdale. I had lunch in this far-flung outpost of the West Riding and took a few stock pictures of the cobbled streets before heading over to Ingleton on the Kingsdale road. This must be one of the best roads in Yorkshire – despite its narrowness and there being several gates to open and close. (Note to self: get a mug, I mean companion, to come along next time.) The views are stunning and the waterfall, although gentle today, is an added bonus.
