We step off the Pennine Way – trodden by untold numbers of feet every year – and onto a favourite right of way of ours. It’s a right of way, but there is no path; it is wholly unfrequented, and carries no trace of passage. My son and I slip with it into the rushes, … Continue reading Into the Rushes →

This article is an edited version of a talk I gave, in collaboration with David Cant, to the Cragg Vale History Group on 17th April 2025 at St John's in the Wilderness Church. In the first half of our talk, David gave an overview of the history of hill farming in the Calder Valley and … Continue reading Cragg Vale’s Little Hill Farms →

So here we are, my boy – your days at primary school are coming to an end, and so too is the school run through the woods. I knew it would come, but I still can’t quite believe it. It’s something all parents say, but it’s true: that it seems only yesterday that we set … Continue reading The School Run →

I accidentally wrote a poem. ‘Would you like to contribute something to an art exhibition on ancient grassland fungi that I’m organizing?’, asked Katie. I demurred. ‘I’m no artist, I just write. No one wants to stand in an exhibition and read an essay.’ ‘Have a think’, she encouraged. So I did. I knew what I … Continue reading Hidden Harvest →

By Paul Knights (read about my work here). If you have any comments, please email me at pauljamesknights@gmail.com or post at the bottom of the page. The Upper Calder Valley is a landscape deeply shaped by its farming history. The terrain, climate and soils create a character distinct from the lower valley, and this uniqueness … Continue reading A History of Farming in the Upper Calder Valley →

My favourite days are dawn-to-dusk exploratory meanders with my son, on paths that are seldom trodden in unheralded corners of the landscape. On one such shining day, at the beginning of this month, we found hidden, unnamed waterfalls in deep-shadowed ravines, gushing springs that once fed farmhouses now long vanished, traced a mile-long stream from … Continue reading A Shining Day →

December school runs through the woods – weaving our way between the holly that throngs around the oaks and under the ivy that clambers up the sycamores – are a countdown to Christmas. We grasped the opportunity for another early morning cloud inversion before school, the valley filled from Todmorden to Halifax with a writhing … Continue reading A Still Silent Valley →

We were back at High Hirst Woodmeadow every Sunday through November, playing our part in Sheepwatch, a rota of volunteers making daily visits to check on the flock grazing the aftermath, the regrowth from the scything we gave it in July. The 14 whitefaced woodland lambs – a hardy traditional Pennine hill breed – have … Continue reading A Chill Sighing Wind →

The crunch and swish of leaves grew gradually louder in the school run woods and lanes as October wore on, and the glowing leaves slotted themselves into place in growing, self-organising jigsaws as they were gently delivered downstream and pressed against the canal locks. We found our first cherry galls on the early falling oak … Continue reading A Good Green Earth →

September saw us resuming our walks to school through the woods after the summer hiatus. We found all as we had left it six weeks earlier, apart from the wilting of the leaves of the mighty oak that fell just before the holidays, and the murmuring little stream we cross, which had been becoming more … Continue reading A Swift Surging Tide →