In the cool of early morning, the stall holders at Mytholmroyd’s small Saturday market are setting up in the shadow of St Michael’s Church. A hand drawn map displayed on the wall nearby details the shops that used to serve this village half a century ago, well over 60 of them, grocers and garages, tailors … Continue reading Essence
The year is poised within the moment of its perfection. Under flawless skies, all the valley’s hawthorns are hoar-frosted with blossom. On the hillsides below Winters, lining the lane to Lower Rawtonstall, climbing out of Nutclough, spilling down Luddenden, they beam white in the brilliant sunshine and beacon at dusk. Across the landscape, the uniform … Continue reading Luminous
Spring rushes on apace, making up for a start delayed by the cold. The churr of great spotted woodpecker chicks spills from a dark hole in a leaning oak. A parent approaches cautiously so as not to give away the chicks' location, before ducking inside to their evident delight, exiting again within seconds, stuck on … Continue reading Chorus
Amid the muted dusty green of birch and the fresh lime of beech, the oaks now mottle the woodlands with their bladderwrack brown, beginning the growing season with the autumnal tint with which they will end it. Every year, it seems improbable that the sickly hue of their new leaves, limp like the wings of … Continue reading Gleam
The church of St John the Baptist in the Wilderness is hosting its regular Sunday afternoon ‘Community Hubub’, an invitation at the gate to the graveyard promising a cake, a cuppa and a chat. Together with the patrons sitting outside the newly-reopened Hinchliffe Arms with drinks and lunches, a busy air is lent, for a … Continue reading Silence
It’s May Day, and an impromptu maypole dance manifests on the village green. Twelve colourful ribbons are tied to a goalpost, and the children, who are already out playing in the late-afternoon spring sunshine, gather and intuitively grab an end each. Someone strikes up a jaunty folk tune on their phone and around the dancers … Continue reading Summoning
Lapwings plunge and soar, their pitches and rolls so sudden it is as if they are caught in violent eddies of the air, freak vortexes that suck them in and swirl and spin them above the boggy, rush-filled pastures at the head of Hippins Clough. But they are in absolute control, their aerobatics ending every … Continue reading Surge
Spring is suspended, paused in its progress by days of single-figure highs and an overnight frost. Having been well on their way to painting the valley green, the birches refuse to budge any further. The single beech in Horsehold Wood that took the bait when the going was good is now very much out on … Continue reading Pause
Stacked Pennine horizons haze into the south. Wind farms crowd the eastern skylines of Lancashire and Greater Manchester, 42 turbines spinning in the stiff spring breeze. West and closer to hand, nine more are planted on Ovenden Moor, crumpled with the quarries of the Nab Hill Delphs. On the slope under this shattered plateau was … Continue reading Horizons
The clatter of clogs, the ring of clashing swords and the cheers of hundreds of spectators echo around Weavers Square. In the centre of the medieval village of Heptonstall, as at every Good Friday, the Pace Egg play, a Calder Valley version of the traditional hero-combat British folk or mumming play, is being performed. Whether … Continue reading Wilding
Landscape Story 