On a bright winter's morning the sun beams down into The Ghyll and lights the mature hornbeam that grow beside the underground water-course. The trees have shed their leaves but last summer's seed-heads remain. Each papery fruit resembles a lantern and hangs from a fine wiggly stem. I find pattern and design compelling This is the tree in its winter aspect but there are signs of spring. Dark buds cling tight to stems, catkin buds and leaf buds fully formed to overwinter in the harshest weather.
There's an echo of our own lives in this capturing of time past, time present and time to come. We might think we live in the moment but our minds flit back and forth over time.
There's an echo of our own lives in this capturing of time past, time present and time to come. We might think we live in the moment but our minds flit back and forth over time.
Throughout this year those who love this place have fought to protect it from thoughtless and damaging aspects of the development by Story Homes at Brigsteer Rise. Today, the footpath which transects The Ghyll is being re-modelled in accordance with the original plan- which had been ignored. The great sump known as 'the gravel pit' should be reduced to a breadth more in character with a rural footpath, to match the existing stretch of path that has remained unchanged. So the area of floral turf should be closer to what it was before. It has taken sustained campaigning to bring this about.
In speaking to others who walk this way I've learnt how greatly we all value such small areas of tranquillity. We value it for peace and birdsong, for flowers and butterflies. And for trees like these lovely hornbeam.
The Ghll is steep-sided so winter sunlight reaches it obliquely and briefly. You have to learn when the light will be right for the photographs you'd like. As I walked that way yesterday, into the sun, the frost-effect on tall grasses was beautiful. When I returned with my camera next day they were in shadow with a light-covering of old snow on the ground.
In speaking to others who walk this way I've learnt how greatly we all value such small areas of tranquillity. We value it for peace and birdsong, for flowers and butterflies. And for trees like these lovely hornbeam.
The Ghll is steep-sided so winter sunlight reaches it obliquely and briefly. You have to learn when the light will be right for the photographs you'd like. As I walked that way yesterday, into the sun, the frost-effect on tall grasses was beautiful. When I returned with my camera next day they were in shadow with a light-covering of old snow on the ground.
Mature trees and conifers along the Brigsteer Road are vital habitat for wildlife. At this season mistle thrush can be heard as they feed on arils in yew trees. Nuthatch and long-tailed tits are audible.
Yesterday, a friend and I walked the footpaths impacted by the Brigsteer Rise development to check that they give easy and safe access- not always the case. Amidst all the noise of construction we found a flock of long-tailed tits, great tits, blue tis and nuthatch in the ivy-clad trees close by. Here's to the resilience of Nature- but it's impossible to know how much has been sacrificed to this on-going development. We have some idea- barn owl and kestrel gone, bats far fewer, voles wouldn't survive being scooped up in diggers.
Yesterday, a friend and I walked the footpaths impacted by the Brigsteer Rise development to check that they give easy and safe access- not always the case. Amidst all the noise of construction we found a flock of long-tailed tits, great tits, blue tis and nuthatch in the ivy-clad trees close by. Here's to the resilience of Nature- but it's impossible to know how much has been sacrificed to this on-going development. We have some idea- barn owl and kestrel gone, bats far fewer, voles wouldn't survive being scooped up in diggers.
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